Callous Motives
by Aquarius Dragon
Summary: Masked by fruitful lies and dark deceits; his obsession with victory and domination will ultimately bring about a cruel twist of fates. Sex, violence, and language. Various Pairings. Editing.
1. Chapter 1: Eluded Ambush

**Summary**: Masked by fruitful lies and dark deceits; his obsession with victory and domination will ultimately bring about a cruel twist of fates. Various Pairings.

**Rating**: Intended for Mature readers due to mentions of sex, violence, and murder.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note nor am I making any money off this story.

Story: **Callous Motives**

**Chapter One**: Eluded Ambush

It was a foggy place with uncanny omens that lurked in the shadows around him. The air was heavy, filled with a strange persistent smell, making Raito gasp for the lack of fresh air.

His body was withered, tired of unseen burdens as he dragged his legs behind the shadow gliding away from him behind the wisps of rising fog. Pressing his hand to his chest, he could feel his heart pounding against his ribs and his lungs ache desperately. They demanded air as if they were being left deprived and dry within his chest.

For a moment he wondered loudly in his mind, _where am I_?

Raito looked around, mesmerized and frightened by the sight of this strange world. The place was oddly bright, perhaps because of the light being scattered by the fog devouring the surrounding area, leaking in like liquid through the fractures in the walls.

He moved his feet, unsure whether he was standing on something or not. His feet met solid, cold ground. So, at least he was safe from falling down.

_Fall down where exactly_? he asked himself again, but everything was just so fuzzy and unclear.

Shrugging all the unimportant thoughts, he picked up the trail again, just like a lost hound, sniffing and tasting the air, following its target in a stubborn manner. He too felt good when he caught a glimpse of the unknown shadow ghosting away from him.

_Will his master reward him, when he will catch this … this thing?_ What was he thinking? _He was no dog! He had no master – he was the master of his own games._ Assuring himself repeatedly, Raito created an odd, self-assured smile on his face.

Why was he assuring himself? He did not know, and did not want to know, but what he wanted to know were the reasons behind this goose- chase. The more he chased it, the more difficult it got. Why did it keep moving away from him?

"Why?" he shouted, listening to his own voice echo through the foggy area.

Raito's legs were so limp that he thought they might break at any moment, leaving him legless and probably angry. _Of course he will be outraged if he lost his legs. What will he cross after sitting on his throne? _

_Throne? What throne?_ he engaged in a conflict with his inner voice. Now that inner, bothersome voice was being highly annoying. _You know, that throne you will put your behind on…after you become the god of the world?_

_What the fuck was this voice talking about? Has it lost its mind? Wait… did it even have a mind? Chase it… chase it … and then…kill it… kill this thing which follows you… it is a thorn in your rosy path …_hethought, sounding like a crazed maniac in his own head.

The voice was reasoning with him in form of slow-revelation. _Yes…it was a right thing to do. I have to do this; I am the only one who can do it._

The voice fell into a deep silence. He could no longer hear its cunning reasons. It was drowned by the pleasant song that flew like cranes to him. It was not distinct, but its mellowness was most alluring.

Raito took slow, careful steps, ignoring the growing weakness in his legs, but he was stepping into something slippery. He looked down, and stopped; his breath quickened, and eyes were left wide-aghast. His feet were bleeding…

He ignored his pain and brought his eyes forward. It was of small importance. Raito resumed his walk, trying to take vigorous steps but he wobbled carelessly on his feet, walking along the walls that had made themselves visible in the wake of disappearing fog.

The air was still menacingly heavy and far from breathable. It only put more burden on his weak lungs. It felt as if they were being forcefully filled with chocking tar. He peered at the walls bathed in something black, emanating a sharp decaying odor.

Then he finally realized … The smell, the colour, the heavy air; it was blood.

Raito jumped away from the wall in horror, like the thing smeared carelessly on the wall was contagious and would kill him if he touched it.

_What is happening? Where am I? And … Why am I here? _

Raito's heart was beating in his mouth. His face was trembling and white with fear. He could not see anything through his teary eyes.

_What is happening to me? _

Pulling himself together, he wiped the grim look along with tears on his face, but got startled at the sight of L lying vulnerably on the dark, dirty ground.

"Ryuzaki," he let out an odd sound with hesitation.

L did not respond. He appeared to be in a deep sleep. His eyelids were gently closed, surprisingly visible, peering from behind his dark messy hair.

His Skin was glowing magnificently to the point that it was frightening. He looked like an angel sleeping in purgatory, or who knew, the deepest reaches of abyss.

"Ryuzaki," Raito called out again, this time with some control on his wobbling voice.

He lifted his injured foot to take a step, but firmly put it on the ground again. There was someone sitting close to L. He could not tell who it was, but the softness of the song suggested that it was a girl.

Raito could not see her face. A cloth that looked like some kind of a strange hood was hanging low over her face. She was crying timidly, channeling her sorrow into her song of lamentation. Whatever she was singing, Raito could not understand a word of it.

Instinctively, He moved back a little, but lost his footing and fell on the floor. He had tripped over something.

"FUCK," he gasped out at top of his lungs, and slithered backwards until his movement was stopped by the rough walls of the cave.

The cave was decorated with dead bodies of men and women. It looked like a vulgar show of a madman showing his masterpieces to the audiences; to bewilder or leave them utterly speechless.

Wherever he moved his eyes, only death greeted him. The faces of the victims were frozen in a painful expression; their bodies clung to the walls like lifeless paintings. It looked like a gallery of a killer and a mad artist.

What if that man came back? He will kill him. He had to run, run away from this place before he became his painting, his next sick-masterpiece.

"Ryuzaki…Ryuzaki." Raito shook L's shoulder madly, hoping that this will wake him up. He kept sleeping, busy in some dream of his. It was not like him to sleep in such an abnormal manner.

"This has to be a dream…this has to be a dream," he repeated the lines like a meditation of an old man.

The singing stopped suddenly. "Leave him be," the girl warned from her perch, and stretched her hand to brush L's white cheek.

Raito's hands automatically released L's shoulder. He stood up slowly and moved a safe distance away from the girl.

"You killed him Yagami Raito," she said in mournful, accusing voice, and sluggishly stood up from the ground. Her blue, velvety gown was very long, and more than half of it was piled up at her feet.

"What are you talking about?" Raito answered back boldly, even if his legs were shaking from fear and exhaustion.

"You lie." She took one step, moving her tilted head back, and revealing her long black hair. He could still only see her intense black eyes. Her face was hidden like some dark secret; a secret he did not want to know.

"I am not lying. Stop accusing me of something I did not commit," Raito roared viciously, raising his strong malicious voice.

The girl remained quiet and turned her head at L. A strange air of defeat and vengeance surrounded her. Her eyes were settled kindly upon him. Raito too, moved his eyes to the man who was sleeping like a baby in this hellish place.

"Ryu…Ryuzaki?" Raito's throat went as dry as a bone. The air in his own throat began to prick and choke him.

L was being devoured by thin black vines. They were running through his skin like sharp, flexible needles. Suddenly he was left in a state of rude awakening. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and his face was twisting with pain.

Raito felt his lips get pulled up at the corners. And before he knew it, he was throwing a malicious leer at the dying young man.

_What am I thinking? This is not entertaining? Or is it?_

The vines slithering over his trembling body started entering his eyes, nose, and open mouth. Blood gushed out of his mouth and splashed on his white shirt, soaking it red.

His cries of pain were muffled and his movements difficult as he desperately thrashed about between the vines to free himself.

_This is extremely satisfying,_ Raito thought like the killer who dwelled between these walls, feeling a nice, full, and a rather satisfied smile grace his lips. He was beyond amused, watching the insane detective being pulled towards the wall against his will.

The faint colour of life that once glowed on his skin was no more. He was dead. Left blind by the black lies, and dead, by his own futile struggles.

"Yagami kun." Raito could see L's hazy face hovering over his.

"Yagami-kun… You were dreaming please wake up," said L, shaking Raito's sweaty shoulder.

Raito hastily got up, and looked at L who was munching carelessly on some sweet.

"I was dreaming?" Raito asked the bored detective with a trembling voice. He still felt quite attached to the morbid half-real dream.

"Yagami-kun this is what naturally happens when we go to sleep," L answered with the least amount of sympathy, narrowing his eyes slightly as if he could read the thoughts of the man he believed to be the infamous Kira.

"Yes I know." Raito returned the childish-detective's annoyed look by creating an angry frown of his own.

"Well that is good to hear Yagami-kun, because you have slept in today. It is two o'clock in the after noon. Therefore I suggest you do not waste any additional time and get to work," L said with a straight face, returning his eyes to the white computer screen. He looked a little madder than his usual self, because the screen was … well… white.

"You could have woken me up Ryuzaki," Raito said in a guarded voice, hoping to start a war of reasons

"I am not your mother Yagami-kun. You are twenty three years old and an officer, and old enough to take responsibility of such small things," Ryuzaki said sarcastically, waving the brown looking muffin in air.

"May God have mercy on those who have been blessed with mothers like you," Raito shot back, pushing the sheets back to finally roll out of bed.

"No need to bicker like a kid Yagami-kun," L said, keeping a bit of tease out of his voice. "Please get ready, there is much work to be done."

Raito said nothing in response.

Everything was going according to Raito's plans. Higuchi was a petulant imbecile whose thinking was a little too ahead of his empty head. His plans to rule the world as God were about to be permanently put to rest by the cunning young man, who watched the entire scene with amusement.

He had played his cards right, too right to let Higuchi become a thorn in his path. To allow him to live now would have surely jeopardized his future. The time was right to grant him his rightful prize for carrying out a petty role in Raito's fool-proof game.

Higuchi squirmed under questions and humiliation. He was finally caught, and Raito blissfully reunited with his old self. That old self, who knew the burden of responsibility to bring about a change in the world.

But to come to his senses again, he had to put his other self to rest. And he had done just that; Higuchi was the past and he, the future saviour of this world… no, he was the future.

And what better way than to enter this world with a bang: a sacrifice for the coming of a new god, for the coming of a new generation, for the coming of a new and better world. Higuchi was to become the sacrificial lamb for this ceremony that will go down in history in highlights, "Kira killed the murderer!"

What joy that thought brought, what feelings he felt … it was just unbelievable.

Rem's presence had hypnotized them all. Even L's eyes were not empty like they usually were, but filled with disbelief and uneasiness, settled on Rem's white skeleton. Even if Raito had written Higuchi's name by playfully placing the book in L's lap; he doubted L would noticed his boldness.

Time was a cruel mistress, and she was running away from him quickly. Whatever he wanted to do, it had to be done now.

Raito carefully pulled the tiny needle thrice, unlocking the mechanism. A small tray moved out from under the watch, revealing a tiny piece of paper. It was clean and untouched. A thin silvery needle rolled back and forth next to it.

It glittered at the laptop's light, begging to be touched and put to use.

From here on, it was all too easy.

Raito picked up the needle, looking at L from the corner of his hazel eyes. The needle was so small that he could barely feel it between his fingers.

He pushed it into the sensitive skin of his thumb, and collected a tiny drop of blood at its tip. The drop was enough to send Higuchi off to the next world. He wrote the name with gentle strokes. The blood spread on the page and dried out quickly.

The soaked-in blood looked like an unsightly stain on the clean paper. That was it. No good byes, no bitter sweet farewells. Higuchi was going to sing the final song himself.

Satisfied with his work, Raito gently pushed the tiny plate inside, dropping his gaze to the wristwatch.

The clock ticked slowly; taking its sweet time. But as each second passed, it entranced Raito, knowing that death was inevitable and close.

A scream echoed through the sky, brining a dancing curious smile on Raito's lips. It was a smile of victory and satisfaction.

So this was the farewell the meaningless and useless pawn in his game had received? _Too fitting_, he imagined.

Plans and deceptions bloomed like flowers in his mind. A garden of a new game was blossoming, spreading like deadly poison in that secret heaven within the realm of his fruitful thoughts. The trap had been set, and the game had begun for a new rat running wildly in the maze.

All he had to do was wait and watch that rat get caught in the mouse trap. Too bad he will not be able to give reasons when he will finally die. Shrieking like a black rat with its neck caught under the metal until it died.

To him L was just that, a lowly rat, running around aimlessly in the maze. Why did he prolong his life when he knew that death was surely to come? He was a pain in Raito's ass, an annoyance, and only his death would bring him closer to his ultimate goal.

"Father what happened?" Raito yelled, acting flawlessly as usual.

L looked on as the game unfolded. He looked a little frightened, and for the first time since Raito had met L, he was left lost and speechless.

Raito had won this crucial round and L had lost to him so easily. He felt superior by L's wrong judgments and his incapability to stop Higuchi's murder. He did not know what was going through that head of his. Perhaps L was retracing his steps and weighing the choices he had made, or had his suspicions of Kira risen by 0.5%?

Raito pressed his dry lips; the thought was downright hilarious. He could already see L accusing him in front of his father, "my suspicions of Yagami-kun have increased to 15.0000009 %."

Where did L stand now? He could not care less, for he did not like giving himself L's headaches.

The handcuffs had been removed. He was free, free at last from the sordid-boon. Though he never asked for this favour, not directly, but the chilling reminder hanging down from the table made the hairs on his neck stand on ends. Freedom was a wonderful thing indeed…

He had come a long way since that faithful day he clasped the holy-book in his hand to bring judgment upon those who slipped the claws of karma. Too bad for them, as he was like the angel of death now, lingering in their dreams, waiting to strike them down for they deserved their fates.

L sat quietly on his chair, perched like a poker-faced crow, thought Raito, who never intended to throw any lines of respect toward the detective in his mind. There, he received the more-less royal treatment.

How spoilt he was, and how stupid he was. He really was no better than a child whose mind deliriously was stuck at one point. Kira was like a toy to him, a toy that was being denied to him, and he was left on the verge of defeat and tears.

Rem was no where to be seen. And Raito knew what the disappearance of the death god meant; nothing but trouble for the dynamic duo.

Raito stood aloof, waiting for Rem to take action. To him, L and his old-mentor's death will not be in vain, they will be a grim reminder for the rest of the world, and after that no one will dare venture into his business.

There was a flurry of excitement in the air. L's hoarse cry in the moment of shock and utmost horror. Watari was dead, and it was L's turn to experience the taste of death, which every mortal would have to, sooner or later.

"She's going to kill us all," Raito roared in panic, looking at L pacing for the other room where Watari lay dead.

Raito took a glimpse at his watch. The tease of time and the fact that L was very much alive could mean only one thing: Rem had betrayed him.

He stood there alone, listening to L's soft cries in the other room and sound of his beating heart. He was alive and so was L. He curled his fingers into fists, feeling his skin tremble and ache under the assault of his own nails. This was not how it was supposed to end; this was not how he planned it.

He followed the questions L left lingering in his wake, and stopped at the door to the second surveillance room. L was holding Watari's dead body, grieving over his loss, which Raito thought was small compared to his.

Raito resumed his walk and soon, came across Rem's ashes that burned the air with the stench of treachery.

"So, this was how it was supposed to end?" he questioned the ashes left like a mountain of dirt in the room.

But no answer came to him. He pulled the death note protruding out of the ashes and slipped it under his pants.

A new resolve shackled him now. It was stronger and deadlier than before. He will not rest, until he saw L's corpse at his feet.


	2. Chapter 2: A Fresh Start

**Chapter Two**: A Fresh Start

After the deluge yesterday, sun shone proudly from between the scattered clouds. L sat next to his trusty old LCD-faced friend. He scrolled down the pages, bored of the routine work that was not going to end anytime soon.

Watari's funeral was two days ago, but some feeling of victory that ran like an undercurrent through L died along with his caretaker. Raito's fake-plans of catching Kira plummeted to a new low, and now under his ravishing charisma the whole team was running around like a headless, naked rooster.

The furore the prude team created on the testing of death note was an almost proof that it was some sort of a rude Rabelaisian joke, and it shook the Japanese conservatives quite viciously.

They had already made up their one track minds…He was a perverse man, and they the 'holey' morons who always thought Raito, the omnipotent-asshole-extraordinaire, was a savvy good boy.

L tried to hound the partially sane father out of the hold of his tenacious as a cockroach son, but this was the curt reply he always got…

"Ryuuzaki…My son is innocent," Soirichi spat in L's bored face.

The topic was clearly closed forever.

L wrinkled his nose that sat like a red tomato on his flushed face. It flashed the memories of shames of yore, or one day before yesterday to be very very precise. He pulled his stooped shoulders back, and the way they wrenched a hiss out of him was not very questionable. Soon, they would probably freeze in their place.

"Bastard," L said in an undertone, but maintained his delicate display of handling the hot cup in his other hand. This was Raito's fault as well.

He gulped mouthful of cream and coco and turned his eyes for the first time in five hours to the stainless window. The curtains were drawn by his new assistant, but all he could see were the black windows of tall buildings around this one, and of course the dispersed clouds and the round fiery sun.

L looked at the clock. It was 5 in the early morning and Watari was gone. The thought was still painful, much too painful for the young and a bit foolhardy detective. But he had chosen to be vindictive rather than merciful-absolution for the young and hopelessly delirious killer.

It was too soon to grieve. If he relented, then the wolf in sheep's clothing will play him out of this game, and will continue on his killing spree even after he killed him. There was no escaping now.

He had to face up to the matter that Raito had beaten him savagely, but never will he let him succeed again. This was L's newfound resolve. It was fiery, it was perhaps even passionate, but it was only pure revenge now.

He returned his attention to the vibrating mobile. It appeared that even his lifeless friends were as impatient as he was. He gently picked the mobile and pressed the enter button, sliding his gaze down the brief and to the point message, "I have received the files."

Hiring thugs was not an easy job, and hiring well-mannered ones was even more difficult. After painstakingly going through many files, he finally chose two; a young twenty four year old girl, and a professional twenty one year old young male schemer; a spring chicken that was more or less professional in other diabolical matters as well.

What had he reduced himself to?

The thought creased his face slightly, but his lips twisted in defiance. It was necessary. To bring down Raito, it was about time he showed him how apt he was in executing colourful hidden plans.

A smile finally stretched his lips and he placed the mobile next to his laptop. It was about time he and his friends took some rest.

# # # # # # #

It was afternoon now, the streets bustling with people going about their own business. The end of rain had sparked the beginning of humidity. It felt unbearably warm and it was even warmer inside the public restroom, where a girl was trying her best to slip into a rather tight Goth Lolita outfit.

She grunted a little when her head got stuck inside the zipped neckline.

"Damn that bastard," she roared under the dress. "My head is too big for this damn dress."

After a minute of life-and-death struggle with the delicate neck of the obscenely stylish outfit, her head finally pushed through, but not without consequences... half of the neck was torn, making her breasts protrude out like two puffed up bulges.

"Now I know how child birth must feel like," she wondered aloud looking into the mirror.

The rest of her dress seemed okay, and it was not like Misa was a shrine priestess to-boot, so showing a little perversion was not completely out of the question and once in a while even serious shenanigans had their place.

It was not easy walking down the street without looking obscenely conspicuous. The girl had raised quite a few eyebrows, and some of the passerby's were keen enough to throw a remark or two, "three people were killed yesterday, but it is still like a damn circus out here…"

Raito had struck again. Beneath L's twitchingly watchful eyes he had managed to bring another band of criminals to justice. The tired black-rimmed hawk was busy eating sweets, when the fox's constant adoring bunny girlfriend had served death to the unsuspecting petty crooks.

Now it was just the case that the long and painfully sinful history of these small time crooks caught Raito's eyes, giving him three sleepless nights. He couldn't rest until they got what they deserved. But to the unsuspecting innocent public they were still upright citizens, who ended up as a cruel road-kill under the truck.

For all intents and purposes, the people were a bit too edgy to ignore her daring outfits so she received more than few glares. But who were they to criticize her when this was where Miss Misa's biggest fan base lived? After all she was not dressed any different than Misa flashing her panties in the countless undergarments billboards hanging over her head.

"Hey, keep walking you perverted old Freak!" she shouted at the old man approaching her with some money in his hand.

She leaned against the façade of another small modeling agency and dialed a number, grumbling heatedly under her breath, "who does he think I am… a twenty yen whore? Asshole!"

"Steve here," a mellow young voice came through the speaker.

"You better be done with it," she said angrily into the mobile.

"Put on your panty hose Radha… I have done it," the man's voice said calmly. "And why have you blown your top off?" He took a few puffs, looking down at the passerby's from his window.

She resumed her walk, throwing the small bag on her shoulder, "it has been nothing but nightmare. People think I am some common whore."

The man sighed, pressing the stub into the ashtray. "Calm down. You worry too much." He leaned back against the wall that was empty save for a small painting of an unsightly brown rabbit hanging close to the table. "The guy is paying us too much, how can you complain?"

"That is not my," she broke off, and looked over her shoulder only to find that old man following her with a rather disgusting, wrinkly leer pasted on his face.

The old man took to his heels, running with all his might to save himself from the young Goth Lolita running after him with her fists raised, and mouth wide open on her dangerously contorted face.

Radha chased him all the way down to the agency where Misa worked, and during this wild goose chase the only words Steve ever properly caught were, "you mother… I will rip your …" and a few other half dozen words banned in the old civilized English society.

"So you have made it there safely," Steve finally spoke after finishing his cigarette pack.

"Shut up Steve," Radha said, cutting the call.

"…" Steve just stared at the mobile and then slipped it in his baggy jeans. He was a bit bored today as he had nothing to do but stare at the busy streets, gawk at the micro minis in hopes of catching a glimpse of panties from all the way up there. And of course there was free strip tease next door too.

He turned his head to the loud bangs on the door. The rent lady was at it again.

"What is with this woman?" He pushed himself off the wall and took a few lazy steps for the door that looked like it was barely hanging from the rusty hinges for its dear life.

As soon as he unlatched the door it swung open with monstrous force, revealing a rather large lady in an extra large frumpy dress standing on the door mat. She was fully pink in the face and her fingers were curled into fists… It did not look pretty.

"What now?" Steve spoke calmly, looking in her squinted eyes. "Did the neighbour lady come with her daughter's problems again?"

"Don't you play smart with me?" She took a step forward. Steve thought that the ground under his feet shook a little. "You were peeking at her daughter through the hole in your apartment wall." She raised a fat finger at Steve to put her threatening point across.

Steve clucked his tongue. "I apologized before didn't I? I told you before, I was checking the hole. It is not my fault she was strutting around naked in her room." He waved his hand around in air.

The short and pretty much oval woman squinted her eyes some more that now they looked like little twinkling pinpricks on a pink pig's face. She raised her thick finger even higher. For a second the colour on Steve's face disappeared behind his red bangs… She was going to whack him to death with those bludgeons' like fists…

"One more peek..." She leaned forward tiptoed, trying to elevate herself somewhat. "…And you are out of here."

"Yeah yeah I hear you lady," he gave a short reply and closed the door in her face.

Steve could hear the woman clumping down the staircase. He ignored the sounds of the neighbour lady screaming in fluent Japanese and pushed the side table in front of the hole.

"Who knows she could be shaving her armpits in there, and it would be my fault," he huffed and gave the table a kick.

"Steve…Steve," the girl next door hissed from the small terrace of her apartment.

Steve leapt for the window. "Be quiet you silly girl, or that woman will wring my neck," he hissed turning his head left and right.

The girl giggled, unaware of the terrible situation she was putting Steve into. The usually calm man reached for the cigarette pack again. This was one of the two hobbies that really eased his tensions; the other was staring at women.

It all happened too suddenly… Steve was just innocently drooling at the new bikini the girl next door was willingly showing off, when two to three terrible incidents took place simultaneously.

The girl was caught red handed by the screaming Japanese neighbour lady. She grabbed her daughter by the ear and dragged her inside, shouting insults at Steve, and giving her lovely daughter a thorough bathroom slipper beating.

At that very moment the door opened, and all Steve saw was the rent lady's fat punch in his face. Steve paid the rent lady extra rent, and walked out of the building with a swab on his blackened left eye for his monkey business.

# # # # # # #

Radha luckily did not have to scour the gigantic modeling agency for Misa as her squeaky screams were echoing through the halls. She opened the door where Misa was creating one heck of a din.

The room was quite large, decorated with several marine life paintings as a backdrop. Huge lights where focused at the centre of the hall. There stood a petite blonde girl dressed in a revealing mermaid like outfit, clinging to a pokerfaced man whom Radha recognized as Raito.

"Raito," Misa cooed, rubbing her cheeks on Raito's arm like a kitten.

"Yes Misa," Raito answered back indifferently, looking around the hall.

"Misa misses Raito-Kun at night," she said in a sad voice, trying to nuzzle Raito's cheek, but apparently she was too short so it looked a bit weird when Misa moved her nose left and right in air.

"Misa I have work to do, so I am afraid it cannot be helped," Raito said, running his hand through his silky brown hair. They looked supple, and had grown considerably past his jaw. Now they hung just barely above his nape.

"But whyyyyyyyyyy," Misa argued, wearing a childish pout on her twenty five year old face.

Raito sighed. "What kind of explanations do you want from me Misa?" He was clearly getting annoyed of Misa's surprise childish fits, and her indirect demands of happy sex.

"Raito is being mean to Misa again. Maybe he just likes that little freak." Misa curled her arms around Raito in a tight protective hug in hopes of saving him from L-cooties.

Raito grunted. "Misa stop this childish behaviour." He pushed Misa's arms back, reducing her death-hold down to his left arm again that was quickly falling asleep.

"Misa just wants her Raito to come home early." She craned her head and created the most miserably pathetic pout that swayed even Raito's hard-as-stone heart.

Raito slightly bent his head down and brushed Misa's cheek with his lips.

Misa hopped a little on the spot. "Raito is so nice to his Misa."

At that moment Radha wondered, what was the kind of behaviour Misa considered 'treated like dirt' in her book? It was clearly hard to say.

"Now why don't you be a good girl and let me go to work?" Raito said calmly, displaying a perfect switch in his cold mood.

"Will Raito come home to Misa by eight then?" Misa pleaded with hopeful, starry eyes.

"I will try my best," he said in a fake silky voice, and gave a quick peck on Misa's puckered lips.

"…" Misa stood still, dazed by Raito's fake charm and quick kiss. She swayed a little, and watched Raito in awe as he made his way out of the hall.

For a split second the presence of the new girl caught Raito's attention but he was already late for the meeting, so he decided to let it go just this once. Of course he could always ask Misa later, but the meeting L had so suddenly called for was far more pressing than this.

_This will just have to wait,_ he thought for a moment, making his way out of the building. He will have to keep a close watch on everyone. Misa was already too-dumb-for-comfort, which is why he had to watch her back at least for the time being as the situation was much too delicate.

Radha slowly made her way to the model that was still standing next to the door, perhaps hopeful that her ever-so-loving boyfriend will pop out, or pop through the door with flowers and candies.

"Miss Misa." Radha clapped on the tiny girl's shoulder. If she was any shorter than she already was, Radha would have mistaken her for a pygmy.

Misa turned her head and looked up at Radha curiously.

"I am your new assistant." Radha showed the blonde girl her fake id. "I gave you a call, remember?" she added when the look of genuine but innocent ignorance had not left Misa's face.

"Ah…Misa remembers." Misa's face finally and thankfully lit up.

"You really are metaphorically and literally blonde, Miss Misa," Radha threw a snide comment, smiling politely.

"Thank you," Misa replied happily, clasping her hands together, thinking it was a compliment on her shiny blonde hair do. It appeared that tongue-in-cheek remarks were beyond her cognitive abilities.

"Your assistant will be returning in a week or so," Radha explained to the attentive girl, who was playing with her ponytails. "I will assist you as long as she is away."

"We will become the bestest of friends," Misa ejaculated quite suddenly and embraced the girl in a girly hug.

_God, I hope not,_ Radha gave the matter a miserable thought but strained a lukewarm smile.

"Miss Misa," a photographer shouted from across the room, "we are getting late." He pointed at his handsome wrist watch.

"Misa is coming," Misa gave another loud cry and returned her attention to Radha, whose ears were still ringing with Misa's earlier display of excited screams. "I will be right back," she assured and hopped off to give the photo shoot.

Radha listened to the indistinct sounds of the photographer and the shouting that followed. It was pretty obvious; Misa was an expert in putting out ear-splitting bubbly sounds at the highest of pitches.

Radha ignored the explanations or whatever modeling mumbo-jumbo the photographer was talking about and pulled out a drug from her pocket. When she got certain that no one was looking at her, she seasoned Misa's juice with it.

"Ready?" the photographer shouted, readying his expensive camera.

Misa gave a nod and started making different odd gestures, and strange poses which Radha thought must be typical of a mermaid, or whatever they called those scantily clad half-fish girls these days.

After taking a gazillion shots from different angles, the young man walked up to Misa, and said something indistinct in her ear. But whatever it was, it kick-started Misa's screaming motor again.

"WHAT!" Misa screamed, "Misa will do no such thing."

"But Miss Misa…You will have to give three shots kissing that male model," the photographer protested, pointing at a timid man waving at the crew with a shy, and mite humiliated look on his face.

"Misa Misa will do no such thing." Misa clenched her fists.

"But Miss Misa…"

"I said Nooooooooooo," Misa gave another painfully long scream. "Misa has a boyfriend," she furthered the argument, as if the whole Japan was not already aware of her only love.

She clumped up to the sofa and planted herself next to Radha. The young photographer followed breathlessly in her wake.

"Please Miss Misa, reconsider," he pleaded again.

"When Misa says no, she means NOOOOOOOOOO," Misa said heatedly and grabbed the juice from the table.

That final no did the trick as the photographer backed away with a defeated look on his face, and started packing the things with his crew.

Misa drank the whole juice in one gulp and placed the glass back on the table again.

"Misa is so sad without her Raito-kun," she droned in apparent sadness.

_Here we go again,_ Radha thought, clapping the side of her face. _Who knows when this rant will end._

"Misa loves her Raito-kun so much," she continued with drooping eyelids.

Radha did not reply to her puppy-love troubles and continued to look on.

"Misa just wants to be with her Raito-kun." She yawned with a gaping mouth. "Misa is sleepy. She wants to go home now."

_Why does she refer to herself in third person?_ Radha gave the silly matter one last thought and got to her feet. "Come on Misa. Let me take you home," she said and stretched her arm to raise the swaying girl to her feet.

Misa was half-awake and pretty much a painful nuisance through out the taxi ride. Her slightly oversized blonde head kept tipping forward, and she kept mumbling nonsense over and over again.

When the taxi driver applied the brakes in front of her apartment building, Misa got thrown headfirst against the seat. This small comical incident left her half awake. She turned her head around and started puzzlingly scratching it. "Misa Misa wants to go home."

"Misa we are home," Radha answered, breathing in lungful of air. She paid the taxi driver and dragged Misa out of the cab who was actually in the mood to sleep there and then on the comfortably-dirty cab seat.

The enormity of the monotonous task was tiring for Radha, as she had her bag in her one hand and Misa's frail arm in the other. Misa was barely walking, her arms hanging losely and legs just dragging on the ground lifelessly.

For the first time Radha realized that Misa in fact was heavier than she looked. She had not even made it to the elevator, when she started taking small breaks to catch her breath. Finally, after a painful task of hauling Misa along with her dinky little legs into the elevator and then all the way to the apartment's entrance she heaved a long sigh of relief.

She reached into Misa's elastic hand bag, trying to keep Misa and her bag from falling and took out Misa's apartment key. Not surprisingly enough, it was attached to a Raito look a like bunny.

Radha brought it close to her eyes. "Seriously, now this is too much."

Strangely enough - to the point of creepy - the bunny had cold brown eyes like Raito, but it also had a fluffy tail and two long fluffed up ears. If Raito worked as a bunny boy in Yakusa's male entertainer's club, he would not have looked much different. Of course, there was a certain cute factor in that Raito-kun painted across the bunny's chest and two teeth hanging out of the stiff mouth.

Raito lacked such privileges, or was the bunny THE unlucky one? After all, the bunny was the ugly dork and Raito was pretty much all over the place with his sex appeal, charisma, and good looks. Take away all that and would the girls still fawn and drool over him? Who knew, and who cared... but the answer was obvious anyways.

Radha inserted the key in the key hole and unlocked the door. As soon as Radha opened the door Misa jumped forward as if someone had pricked her ass with a tiny thumb pin. She ran for her bed room, which was possibly to the left side of the small dining room. Radha traced Misa's footsteps and came across a loudly snoring Misa lying flat on her chest.

Radha thanked the heavens that the midget-like-model had gone through the trouble to at least remove her shoes and pull the covers over herself, or else she would have had to tuck her in. The thought made her feel like a housemaid.

Radha returned to the entrance door and locked it from inside. It was half past noon, so she had plenty of time to thoroughly search the apartment. She unzipped her bag, moved her clothes to the sides, and carefully looked at a small device. Its screen was on and it showed no signs that any surveillance equipment such as cameras or bugs were hidden anywhere within fifty meters.

She searched each and every inch of the cosy apartment. In the kitchen, cupboards, under the chairs, and tables, bathroom, even the refrigerator, but found nothing that would interest her or L for that matter.

The bedroom was pretty ordinary. Everything was neatly arranged. Two side tables were placed on each side of the double bed; their drawers were filled with useless things, like Misa's unused makeup and packed condoms.

The lamps sitting above them were turned off. The Bulb behind the lamp's hood was visible because of the sunrays passing through its papery surface; it had a simple flower design painted on its surface.

Radha diverted her gaze for Misa as she moaned, and slightly twisted her body in her dream. "Raito…don't stop," she breathed lovingly.

Radha rolled her eyes. "L is not paying me enough for this," she grumbled and snapped the open drawer shut.


	3. Chapter 3: Steve Burnside

**Chapter Three**: Steve Burnside

_The sounds of her dance echo through the room as she taps her feet gracefully on the marbled floor. She is dancing care freely with the silk red dress clenched in her delicate hands. The movement of her arms is elegant and precise. The cloth is rippled by her movement. It falls in front of her beautifully painted feature and that graceful smile playing on her full lips. _

_The red garment conceals and reveals her face before the audience, whose eyes are fixed on her spectacular performance. It feels as if I am watching a magic show, presented by this beautiful stranger. _

_The audience is watching her every move, the swaying of her hips and arms, the gentle tapping of her feet. All eyes are upon her and that beautiful bewitching smile that has somehow frozen at its place. They are spell-bound and are completely unaware of what is happening around them, as if this entourage has frozen in time. Except her, and these feelings of amazement, thrill and hunger. _

_Her audience is aristocratic, save for me, who is a shabby man invited here just to note down the details of this event. Unlike me, they have paid for her to perform in this private guest's only gathering. Perhaps they have paid for her smile, her dance, and even the red dress, making this performance seem like a Red dance. _

_But why do I say this? I am the eyes, ears, and the senses of the reader. They feel, hear, see, and experience the reality through me. _

_How could I have forgotten to add this simple thing I so often do in my personal journal?_ _I am a man of wisdom. My justice is not blind but divine. However, my hunger for the flesh is like an animal. I am ruthless and very primitive and I desire just rewards for my efforts, my generous deeds._

_We will talk about me later, now is the time to mellow out and give in to the waves of pleasure passing over me so quickly._

_It is strange how they have decorated everything with red colours. The room, its curtains, the furniture and the even the people standing under its high roof are wearing red dresses. The ladies look ravishing in red, but the gentle men look nothing short of typical-underpaid circus clowns. But, I should not blame them for their choice at gentlemanly clothing, which is of course quite laughable. They are dressed this way to celebrate the Rose festival._

_However, I seriously doubt that they know anything about the significance of this magnificently beautiful flower. The Rose is delicate; its petals soft beneath ones touch. Its fragrance is natural and is more pleasing than those expensive perfumes made in the city of love._

_The Rose is a symbol of beauty and purity. The only creature I can relate to it is the fairer sex. Yes, women are like roses; delicate, beautiful, and pleasant. They possess all its qualities. They are fragile and can easily be broken, just like how easily we can pluck the petals of the fresh Roses._

_Their skin is soft, velvety and the fragrance which lingers on their skin is the most pleasant aroma nature has to offer._

"_Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. Maybe Venus is more than just a celestial body, and perhaps is a heaven in cosmos. Women are unearthly creatures and I will forever admire and adore them. I can write volumes upon volumes of books just about their fragrance alone. Ah yes! The sweetest of their smells._

_But, I cannot pin my thoughts into words. They just slip my mind before I try to channel them into writing. I feel shy and cautious to admit my inner and promiscuous desires, which I will jot down at the end of those unused pages… without talking to myself._

_How long have I been sitting here, unaccompanied is quite the mystery. However, this is not the first time I have seen this woman. I have not seen her up close, but I did pay her darling husband a nice…what's the word… eventful visit. Well, it was his very last visit after all. I was the sweet death that gave a gentle knock on his door._

_How he cowered before me, begged even, as he took his final foul breaths. To grant him mercy, and let him live a little longer. That petty, miserable begging of his was completely out of the question and a bit late as well. After all, I had severed his throat and his foul crimson blood was gushing out of that grotesque wound. He was trying to hold onto any glimmer of life left within him, as he clutched his throat and sunk his nails into his blood stained skin._

_As the last of his blood drained from his body and spread over the floor, I took my leave. I could hear the soft whimpers of his dear beautiful wife. Who I am certain was shedding crocodile tears over his decaying corpse. Perhaps she even danced a little in her moment of new found joy that she was free at last from under the hold of her cruel husband._

_Maybe she is performing a dance for me that I granted her liberation from her emotional torment. Yes, this is the same woman who was saved by me, and it was I who granted her husband a death fitting for his crimes. Her cries of pain, when he used to kick and hit her uncontrollably are forever burnt into my memories._

_She will thank me for my kind deeds as I have returned the blush to her cheeks that were once dry and colourless. She will thank me by fulfilling my desires…_

"Nothing but drivel full of hardcore disturbing material," said the raven haired youth, who wore no particular expression as he tossed a small withered leather book on the steel table. "I think my fragile mind has been perverted for life," he finished with an air of subtle disgust.

"Why do you say that?" the blood-red haired young man asked calmly, lifting his head slightly to look at his precious little diary thrown without any feelings on the harshly scraped surface.

"Please, save me your passionate non-sense," the older man with his black hair in complete disarray answered back, still calmly. "You are a serial rapist and a murderer; stop pretending to be so poetic."

The black haired man pulled his feet out of the worn-out shoes and quite suddenly and absentmindedly slipped one of his thumbs in his mouth.

The other man watched him with green eyes and a mild expression of disgust, but said nothing. But the other odd man sitting with his legs curled up in front of him, sucking on his thumb like it was some sort of ice-lolly was a bit too distracting and even slightly vulgar, he thought.

"I call it making love, not rape." He craned his head to look at the old ceiling fan spinning at snail speed. "And besides," he said, lowering his head and eyes, but remained propped up on his right elbow, looking sluggish and weary, "I do not need to give a thumb sucking whore any explanations."

The other bit down on his thumb hard, then instinctively began to chew on it. "Really?" he asked curiously, pulling a nasty frown on his face on being insulted so casually.

"Yes." The handsome man leaned his head forward, sending a sweet smell of mint from his mouth. "Really really," he hissed quite normally, keeping his features schooled and calm.

"Why don't you feel some shame, you made-up-male-ho?" The older man pulled his thumb out quickly, looking at the handsome man cringe his neck slightly in anger. "Or should I call you Steve?" he said with a still voice, slipping the reddened thumb in his pocket.

Steve leaned back, looking at him calmly and without feelings now. "Done with your sucking?" he said, green eyes ablaze. "Or do you need something else to suck on… Ryuuzaki?" he said after a long pause, lowering his eyes to his crouch and parting his lips in a dangerous sneer.

L clenched his fists in his pockets, feeling a sharp pain travel up his arm. "You are as stupid, as you are sexually charged," L said, his voice heavy with deep anger, but still mellow and surprisingly even.

"Shut up, you asshole," Steve's voice and knuckles cracked in anger. He breathed heavily for a minute or two, looking into the black eyes that never left his.

"You think your existence has become free of authority or any obnoxious factors?" L said slowly, watching Steve relax into his chair a little, though his nostrils were still flared up or maybe it was just the near intimidating red colour of his hair? They always gave the feeling that some one had set them on fire.

Steve lifted his brow making an odd face, which L thought could be something along the lines of, 'What the fuck are you looking at?'

"Sorry, just lost my train of thought," L confessed offhandedly.

Steve looked away rolling his sharp green eyes.

"Just curious," L began, capturing some attention of the genuinely bored man, "do you use a lot of red hairspray?"

Steve's hand instinctively flew to his head. His fingers ran through his clear, almost crimson hair, feeling any traces of something wet on his head. Did he just fall for a common and obviously stupid joke?

Steve's face remained frozen in what would be a half, 'what the fuck' expression, and not to mention his comically hanging-open mouth.

"Because that red colour quite nicely compliments your fiery personality." L curled up his lips, throwing that goofy grin. "I must say, you have a nice fashion sense," he ended the compliment with a dorky thumbs up.

Steve's lips came together like seams on a halfheartedly sewn quilt. "And yours look like something a fat man has wiped his ass with," Steve said in retort, pulling his hand down quickly.

"What is with you and fat men?" L turned the course of the conversation entirely, folding his arms across his chest.

"What the hell are you talking about?" came the quick reply from the other man.

"What about fat women?" L asked, almost with curious interest.

"You know, you are starting to become a pain … in my ass." Steve pulled a fag out of his pocket and pressed it between his dry lips.

L uncurled his legs, putting his feet on the ground. Fat women and men is clearly not what he came here to discuss.

"Well?" L asked again, looking at Steve's glowing green eyes that were boring in his face.

Steve remained still, lighting the cheap cigarette hanging from his lips with his personal lighter which he produced from his other pocket.

"I will snatch that cigarette from your dodgy mouth," L said in a serious tone, "don't test my patience."

Steve drew deep on the cigarette and exhaled the smoke from his curled lips. "Is this fat lady some kind of catchword?" Steve asked, looking through the curls of white smoke at L.

"Whatever you make of it … since you like to indulge in snatches a lot." L craned his head, looking at Giovanni standing next to the door. "Take those gifts back from our friend if he decides not to hold his silvery tongue."

Steve Pinched his lower lip between his fingers, still drawing on the cigarette with all his heart. He always pinched his lips whenever he was giving thought to something serious.

_Was he referring to women, or the other snatches between their legs?_ Steve thought heatedly. _Damn the 'intended puns'._

L kept looking at Steve pinching his lower lip. It looked red and abused. It will not be long before it would start bleeding. Maybe just maybe, he might turn around this time, now that his trials were just around the corner.

Steve remained idle for some time, only his fingers refused to stay still, pinching and reddening his already reddened lip. But just as L's little hopes had taken flight, he threw a nasty grin and playfully puffed the smoke in L's face.

"I am not interested in fat ladies." Steve pressed the stub on the table, leaving a black spot at its corner. "I like doe-eyed beauties." He winked, passing his tongue over his lower lip, leaving it shining and glazed.

L pursed his lips, annoyed at the young man whose mind was snatched by desultory thoughts. Steve was as insulting and shameless as ever.

L had met Steve before, but the results were still the same. Steve simply refused to help L, and the 'fat lady' catchword had become more of a nuisance as Steve had a dozen, highly insulting volley of 'fat guy' jokes to throw at him.

"_Who is L again?" Steve suddenly asked L, who had given him a simple and humble preposition to work under his imaginary boss._

"_My boss," L droned in an unconvincing manner. _

"_Sounds like a fat man who cannot lift his greasy fat butt off the chair to come and discuss this himself," Steve gave an insulting remark that made L feel his little ass shudder … _

_And the next time … _

"_He eats sweets all day?" Steve asked with great surprise when L told him that his make-believe boss ate very little veggies. _

"_Well," Steve spoke, looking pretty amused with himself, "I bet queen Latifa's ass has got nothing on your boss's." _

_And the next time … _

"_Does he fart a lot?" Steve asked quite innocently. "I bet his farts get stuck in the air-conditioning system pipes, and when they get turned back on … the whole room gets drenched in the fat guy's butt-aroma," he ended, roaring with laughter and his head thrown back. _

_L had a small urge to sniff the surrounding air… what if… His resolve was waning fast. _

_And finally … _

"_How many times do I have to tell you?" Steve reasoned angrily, "I am not interested in kissing his fat ass." _

"_He does not have a fat ass," L retorted, keeping his anger under his skin. _

"_Well guess what, he can kiss his own crippled ass, and shove that 'fat lady' up where the sun never shines, but I doubt he will be able to find his glory hole." Steve's raised voice hardly faltered as he kept his eyes on L's lopsided, and slightly wounded smile._

"_And here is a guess for you, Stevey boy," L began slowly. _

"_How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that." Steve sprang to his feet._

"_After this meeting, you will have one last chance to take up my offer," L assured Steve with an air of seriousness and glazed eyes. He turned his head. "Pick these up Giovanni." L pointed at the cigarette packs on the table. "I think Steve will need to play with himself for tonight." _

"_Shut up, you stone-age wanker," Steve insulted threateningly. _

"_Bye bye Steve, be good tonight. Or who knows, you might just suffer from … 'the wanker's doom.'" L waved his hand at the fuming man, whose face was as red as his hair. _

This was hardly going anywhere near as L had planned. Steve's perverse perseverance was making it impossible for L to take matters any further than this. L knew Steve very well that he was taking delight in annoying him. But whether he would accept his offer or was he waiting to get bailed out through other channels, he could not yet ascertain it.

Steve was a very brilliant man, who refused to channel his dexterities in something creative, instead all his mental energy was spent on women, sex, and of course murder.

Steve was pretty much a walking talking wolf-like womanizer. His formidable charm, his alluring looks, his boyish smile was enough lure women into having casual sex with him on regular basis. But when he could not find a nice catch to reduce the burden of sex addiction, he resorted to non consensual sex. Even though, it was almost effortless for him to take a woman just for one night.

He had everything a rapist could wish for to avoid any unnecessary trouble and get the delights the easy way around, but it seemed that the wolf inside Steve hungered for those who played hard to get.

Steve, quite dodgy in matters of hearts, used his charms to disarm the strongest of woman's resolve. His looks were tools of deception, and he abused them to the fullest to indulge his nearly insatiable sex addiction.

L could never get out of him that when he started going out and lying on top of every girl he laid his eyes on, but he assumed his tough past life forced him to seek small pleasures out of it.

Steve was quite young when his father, an unemployed drunkard, created the usual unrest at home. Lonely, and forced to do menial jobs at a local restaurant to sustain himself and his mother, he began a fling with the owner.

She paid him extra for his services, and he managed his education expenses. It was not undying passion, but simply excitement and pleasure from his small trips to the restaurant and the rewards it brought him. The little affair of interests continued till he earned his scholarship at Harvard University, and then it ended just like that.

This habit of sleeping for pleasure and personal gain must have taken shape as addition later on. But, it was all hypothetical of L.

This addiction and lust for killing was fueled by his religious friends. Steve was a good boy who resented his father for putting him through such a tough life, and this weakness became an advantage for his social circle, who cashed his brilliance to gain support for their fraternity.

Steve, the boy-wonder boy-toy of many a fraternity members wives and daughters, quickly grew in ranks and began his more secret sacrificial cult activity.

"_You know … I was sleeping with 6 women at the fraternity, and all of them were the members' pretty wives," Steve boasted before L, taking puffs from the cigarette. "And their husbands and the other lovely ladies never found out," he sang in a smooth voice. _

_L was left shocked. "So, when you slept with one, the others never found out?" L asked with eyes slightly wider than usual. _

"_Nope. I am not stupid you know," Steve answered, tapping his finger on his scull. _

Steve began killing after he graduated from Harvard University. Young, intelligent, and misguided by his peers, he believed that he was on a path to happiness and thus became a devout in a very short time.

His father's injustices towards his mother and himself, fueled his rage towards men and nurtured his desires to seek pleasure in women. After thoroughly studying his religion, he returned to his father with vengeance in his heart.

This is when he committed his first murder and offered the blood of his father in a grotesque rite he had learned from one of the fraternity branches in Manhattan.

The whole city went into a state of panic. People started linking Satanism with the bloody symbols Steve drew on the white walls before he hung his father from the ceiling fan.

La Vay and his band of satanic nut-cases came under severe criticism. The so-called Christian devotees threatened to burn down the satanic churches, claiming that it was the cesspool for human corruption. After all, Satanism was infamous for its trivialization of evil and people only needed something to blame.

The public's uproar and the morbid ritual captured L's interest, and he decided to take on this case. To L's surprise this did not turn out to be a cunning game of cat and mouse.

L was not the cat with his claws out, and Steve was not the mouse trying to whisk into some rat-hole. Neither were there any mind wrecking mysteries to solve. Everything was crystal clear right from the beginning. The criminal was not playing any games at all, but was just fulfilling his duties as a member of his fanatic clan.

Steve's method of killing was quite simple. He murdered chosen men after he observed them for several days. He did not choose men after chanting some religious song, or receiving some revelation during prolonged hours of meditation. He chose them, as they were not fair to their wives, just like his father was not fair to his.

He monitored their activities closely after befriending a lady or two in the neighbouring houses. And after keeping his hawk like watch on them for several days, he made his move suddenly.

Steve's physical strength and vigour made him much stronger than his targets, so he overpowered them easily. He killed them using the ritual dagger he had earned for his services back in the fraternity. He finished the grotesque rite with his signature bloody religious symbols. Before taking his leave though, he raped the woman in the house, because according to him he deserved a reward for his humane effort.

These philanthropic activities carried on until Steve was invited to attend a rose festival organized by one of the most powerful aristocratic families of the fraternity. Apparently he had become quite famous for his heroic services, and bold literary pieces filled with tales of lust, macabre, and horror.

The scion of that family, who was also his dear friend, recognized his talents and invited him to write a poetic piece about their gathering. He agreed, as the female dancer who was the now-widowed wife of his former victim was invited there as a dancer. After all, it was her turn to pay back the favour.

By that time L had collected all the necessary evidences to apprehend the ruthless handsome killer in the prime of his youth. Who did have a soft heart for women and a glimmer of goodness left within his darkened soul.

L did have lingering doubts that Steve will not show up at the gathering and will move on to a new location. But, all of them were put to rest when Steve showed up, dressed casually in blue jeans and lose black sweatshirt. He never took off his black coat and took out his journal to scribble down details to write the poem later.

He sat at the corner of the beautifully decorated room, observing the dancer with hungry green eyes; his intentions were quite obvious.

When the dance ended, he chased the woman back stage to claim his prize. His desire blinded all his rational thinking, because when the woman screamed, the guards at the entrance quickly ran to her rescue. He got caught, and his lucky streak ended in shame.

Maybe lady luck was flirting, and even sleeping with Steve, because the whole fraternity was shielding him from his gruesome death. L thought that this was where his affairs must have come in handy.

The respectable family called the allegations a dirty slur on their spotless reputation and a foul propaganda by their rivals to bring shame to their family name. Steve got an obvious advantage, as most of the evidence never made it to the public and the remaining was blamed on Satanism, resulting in some arrests and a total shut-down of a couple of satanic-churches in the area.

No one however, laid a single little finger on Steve. This gave L a huge advantage to coax Steve into working with him. This had a lot to do with Steve's charms, his brilliance to hack into the Police Database and erase his name clean. In fact, it had everything to do with it.

Steve was an alluring and formidable player. He was innocent and painfully handsome as he was clever and dangerous. He was slick and sharp as a fox, and lusty as a hungry wolf. Steve was all L needed to bring Raito's most trusted second female player down to her knees.

But, even if Steve called Raito a 'coward', and a 'stupid faggot', he was not silly enough to lose his life to him. He knew Raito was armed and dangerous, thence, he straightforwardly refused L. But the huge one billion dollar reward L was so generously offering, was a bit hard to pass up.

Steve only needed a little push, but so far L's direct and mite desperate assaults were just bouncing off the stubborn but lovely maniac.

"How adorable Steve." L waved his hand sarcastically. "Maybe one of those doe-eyed beauties is going to come through the door any minute now to whisk you far far away from this dreadful place."

Steve's searing green eyes could have withered anything dry, but L was already drab to let them affect him any further.

L putting the hand close to his ear, teased Steve again, "do I hear the stomps of a newly bought high heel?"

Steve's face remained twisted in anger and his sewn-shut lips looked like a large, ugly groove on his face.

"Must have been my imagination." L brought his hand down, importing the note of sarcasm in his otherwise droning voice.

"Give me back my dairy." Steve stretched his hand when L picked the forgotten small book from the table. There was a strange urgency in his tone, and L new why.

"I don't remember this being a part of the deal." L handed the book to Giovanni who slipped it inside his coat's pocket without hesitation.

"What deal?" Steve drummed his fingers on the table, putting out grating sounds that echoed in the small room.

"I don't know Steve, maybe you would like to gag yourself with the fat lady?" L pulled a strange fake look of disbelief that annoyed Steve to no end.

"I have told you before haven't I?" Steve leaned forward, baring his perfectly white teeth. "I am not interested," he hissed before relaxing into his chair again.

"I bet this is what you looked like when you made your version of puppy love to your victims," L mocked.

"I will be out of here faster than you calling yourself a mother fucker." Steve pulled out another fag from his pocket.

"Cheap smoke and head in the gutter is all you can afford here," L said, pushing some bangs out of his black eyes.

Steve bit down on the soft cigarette, spitting some of the tobacco from his mouth.

"No one is coming for you. And if you refuse, then this dairy will be enough to send you to the afterlife," L explained, raising a red file high enough for Steve to take a good long look at it.

"The dairy," Steve began smoothly.

"Yes, the dairy sweetheart," L spoke in a leveled voice.

"DON'T CALL ME," he snarled, then controlled his temper quickly, "never mind. What about the dairy?" Steve ran his hand through his silky red hair; suddenly he looked quite uninterested in this boring small talk.

"Nothing much Stevey…aside of every small detail about the murders and those nice vivid descriptions about the women you raped; all are present in this dairy," L answered, going through the pages of Steve's file unhurriedly.

"Are you trying to blackmail me?" Steve asked, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"That is a harsh word. I call it negotiation." L closed the file, putting it in front of Steve who gave it just a short glance.

Steve remained quiet, while his mind jumped from one thought to another like a restless grasshopper.

"I know who hired me for you," L said, folding his arms, looking into the green eyes filled with glee.

"Do you now?" Steve mocked, throwing the fag across the room at Giovanni's feet. Who gave him a threatening and real, 'I will sink your smug face in' look.

"Unfortunately your friend does not know that I have your dairy in my possession," L said, lifting himself so slowly from the small steel chair that it looked as if something was pulling him back.

With the flare of anger, Steve brought his both hands on the table. He looked on the verge of saying something but looked away with subtle defeat hovering in his eyes.

"You are in no position to refuse me. Because you have little or no idea, what you will get yourself into if you do," L said triumphantly, slipping his pale hands in his warm jeans pockets.

Steve looked him straight in the eyes. It was a look filled with countless emotions that screamed victory to L, because it took him nearly five days to get the dairy out of police's possession without any leak of evidence.

It was hard work, but it paid off beautifully.

Steve cupped his rugged chin dotted with fine sharp red hair, lifting his eyes to throw a death glare at L. L on the other hand looked a little more than subtly amused. He kept looking at Steve, standing next to the door, waiting for him to grab the file and sign the contract.

"What do you exactly want from me?" Steve said, finally giving in after a grueling five day squabble with L over his non-existent boss and his completely imaginary fat ass.

"How many times do I have to go through with it?" L said, mildly angered by Steve's relentlessness to annoy him.

"Will it kill you to say it again?" Steve's face twisted with anger. "I will read the file, and you can turn on your droning tape recorder… alright?" Steve said almost casually, picking the file from the table.

L threw him an irritated look and explained, "your job is plain and simple…Befriend, Takada Kiyomi and find out if she is in contact with Raito or not. If so, then find out how. I will send you the necessary files concerning her via email."

Steve shook his head one or twice. His eyes were on the file opened in his lap as he turned the pages slowly.

"It is my theory that she is the third player in the little game our friend Raito is playing," L continued, pacing sluggishly up and down the room, "therefore, she must have the other death note with her."

Steve pulled out Takada's picture from the file, and then closed it.

"But even if she doesn't … which is a small chance … then she must have a couple of handy pages with her. Or at least this is what my theory is," L finished, dropping his gaze to his feet.

"Is this the girl?" Steve asked, looking at the picture.

"No Steve, that is Britney Spears." L looked up, scratching his left foot with the right.

Steve wrinkled his nose, sniffing the dense air in the small room. "You just want me to sleep with this girl, don't you? You know, I am not some bitch you have bought from the brothel for one billion dollars," he said, slipping the picture in his pocket.

"Don't try to be smart with me. You are a bitch, and you know it," L retorted, insulting Steve in a surprisingly even voice.

"Don't make me sink something big down your throat and then we shall see how holey, and self righteous you really are, you little slut," Steve shot back almost in an instant.

L acted like he completely brushed off Steve's last over-the-top insult. "By the way, your sweet-seventeen friend, Jonathan is hopeful to have you in bed."

"You are actually quite observant." Steve gathered his features into a look of amusement, while he played with another broken cigarette on the table.

L shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be completely oblivious. "I just got this strange homosexual vibe from him."

"Tsk tsk tsk." Steve shook his middle finger. "Don't change the course of this nice tête-à-tête."

"My oppologies, I just thought you liked it somewhere in the wrong orifice," L insulted directly at the show of novel-gesture from Steve.

"And you like it in the right one?" Steve said chuckling inwardly. L remained quiet.

"Last but not least… keep a close eye on her activities, who she interacts with and why. She may have hidden the note or its pages in her apartment. Who knows, maybe she carries one with her," L droned, looking at the chair he had left a few minutes ago.

"The girl hides them in her panties." Steve leered, winking at the deadpan L.

"Yes, that is very amusing," L said offhandedly.

"Anything else?" Steve added like an afterthought, wiping his tired but brilliantly clever green eyes on his palms.

"No Steve. You can leave now," L said, looking down at Steve.

"That's good," Steve said with energy, jumping out of the uncomfortable chair, "because your cheap humour was getting on my nerves."

L said nothing in response, and watched Steve leave the room along with his coat.

_It will only be a matter of time before Raito loses one of his dear friends,_ L thought, his stare still fixed on the door through which Steve had just left.

Exercising his plan into action, Steve rented an apartment opposite the building where Takada was living. It did not take him long to take three maids into confidence. They reported to him daily about Takada's timings, such as when she left for her office, when she came back, and what were her resting hours and whom did she interacted with.

After gathering enough information about her, he was confident that Raito had not contacted her for quite some time. It was time for him to take some necessary action to make Takada get intimate with him.

Steve looked at the red sun that shone through the window. It appeared to be dying and its last light was quickly ebbing away. He turned his gaze for the cigarette pack lying on the small table next to him.

According to the information given to him by the trusty maid, Takada had already left for home. He took one cigarette out and slipped it in his mouth.

Casting one last quick glance at the clock, he struck a matchstick on the small blue matchbox. He lit the cigarette and took quick puffs.

Steve had already wasted enough time going through the files over and over again, and not to mention the additional files L kept forwarding to him. If he wasted anymore time, he will miss the chance to seduce her … well, from afar at least.

"Damn that fat ass bastard," he cussed at L in the empty room, "who does he think I am … his slutty-clerk?"

He had to gain her favours within twelve days; otherwise all his efforts would be in vein.

Steve hastily got to his feet and made his way to the slightly ajar door, grabbing his black coat along the way. He had come up with a rather simple but a snip cheap plan.

"I have to brush up my seduction skills," he thought to himself, racing down the stairs, leaving a few women giggling in his wake.

He did look a bit odd in this all-Japanese neighbourhood, actually a race apart with his striking red hair, and emerald green eyes. If it was not for his fluent Japanese, L could only have had created more trouble for himself.

When Steve got out of the building, he saw Takada's car approaching the building out of the corner of his eyes. He quickly put on his coat and leaned against the stone wall.

Takata's driver parked the car close to the entrance. When she stepped out, the first thing that caught her attention was a strange, red-haired man standing next to the dumpster of the building just across the thin road.

A perfect, non-seductive smile disturbed his collected features. He took a few quick paces toward the car, but stopped at the sight of two armed guards.

They looked a bit too large for such a small car. And this idea of something large in something small made Steve's face break out in sweat.

"It's okay," Takada said, relaxing her guards' tense faces. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking at Steve with interest.

"Hi, my name is Luke. I am here on a journalistic project on Kira and his supporters. I would be in your dept if you spared some of your time for this," Steve explained, looking least bit hungry for Takada's soft breasts, her pretty face, and her delicious legs.

Takada gave a long look at Steve. He looked harmlessly handsome enough.

"You can send your file to my apartment. I will decide on the appointment," she said, throwing a warm-hearted smile at Steve.

Steve gave a courteous bow. When he lifted his head, his eyes were blazing and hungry with emotion. They did not look as warm and innocent, like they did only a second ago.

His eyes followed her every step until she disappeared inside the building.

"We'll see Miss Takada that who gets away with the reward, and who is left with nary a thing," Steve's voice chilled the surrounding air as he turned his back on the building and started pacing for his apartment.


	4. Chapter 4: Bizarre Entanglements

**Chapter Four**: Bizarre Entanglements

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L's resolve was greater and stronger than the unforeseen troubles ahead. His plan was fool-proof, only in the sense of the word, and the fact that the team was still scratching their heads as to how was this case to be dealt with.

Raito was also grasping at straws, if not grasping at anything at all. He was just trying to reach conclusions without much of a proof. L was not a fool that Raito will not sit tight and let the scenes roll in front of him.

L was the same as well, only on the other side of the flimsy screen of rivalry between them. They were aware of each other's nature; at least L was ahead of the game here. He had formulated a solid plan to take down the modern, unseen killer.

Even if the hindrances presented inevitability, he was certain Raito will get caught in the entanglements of fate. His lucky streak was already arousing suspicions among his team back in the USA.

Commander Lester was in charge of the entire messy affair regarding the testing of the note on a prisoner. This was going to be tricky, as L was going to put on an act that the testing was withheld due to lack of evidence.

This was very easy, but whether this plan was going to carry on without any unnecessary hindrances later, was a mind-boggling question itself. He talked about his plan with Lester, who agreed to secretly test the book without the rest of the team's consent or knowledge.

The time was right to throw in the dice and see results of the gamble.

L was sitting strangely upright, listening to Matsuda's gripping story, or as the other members perceived it. It was as annoying as nails on a chalk board. Nothing even remotely intelligent was coming out of his mouth. L was amazed how utterly inconsistent information was thrown out of his continuously flapping lips.

He dragged his nails over the iron hard surface of the armrest. Yes, the torture was unbearable.

He looked at Matsuda with hatred flashing in his eyes, twitching on his chair, and shaking his leg.

L kept rewinding the speech in his mind, which he was to deliver before the oblivious audience. He was getting confused and his contours were suggesting the subtle hint of unnecessary emotions as well.

Finally, when it seemed like Matsuda's horrid-tale was reaching its climax, L readied himself to tell the team about their future schedules.

He moved his dark brown eyes and caught sight of Raito mumbling words which must have been considered fowl and uncultured by the old English men.

"And then, the truck came rushing towards me…"

"Enough Matsuda-San," L cut the stunned Matsuda off, who looked like a person who just lost his home, car, and a would-be wife in a fire. "We have important things to talk about, rather than waste our time on these pointless, self-made stories." L stood up, looking into the sad eyes of the accidental detective.

Raito drew a long sigh of much needed relief and focused all his attention on L slowly dragging his feet up and down the room.

"The reason all of you were called here," he began, stopping next to the switched off microphone, "is because of the recent, unfortunate turn of events." He exchanged a fleeting glance with Raito, who for once looked interested and vaguely apprehensive of what was to come.

"As you all know, Watari passed away under questionable and unpredictable circumstances." L resumed his chair again, keeping his eyes on the clock sitting silently next to the quiet microphone. He was expecting someone's call, and Raito just detected this dead giveaway.

"Whatever happened was completely unforeseen, and could not have been avoided, considering our lack of progress in this case, and lack of evidence," L stopped, silently sweeping his gaze around the room, settling it upon each of the team's confused member for just a second or two.

"I have spoken to one of FBI's leading investigator about testing the book, as you all already know." He rubbed the ball of his foot on the smooth marble and caught sight of fear flickering across Raito's face.

"But Raito-Kun is still alive isn't he? That means he is innocent," Matsuda quickly interrupted, springing to his feet to argue with L.

"How do you know it is not a fake rule?" L narrowed his eyes, returning Matsuda's gaze calmly.

"What do you mean fake?" Aizawa stepped into the debate as well, seeing the concerned look on _Soichiri__'s_ face.

L had managed to build up the curiosity among the team, and this is exactly what he wanted. "It is possible that whoever made the Shinigami write this rule, wanted us to believe, or more appropriately wanted you to believe that he is innocent." L drew a sigh, running his hand through those perpetually unkempt hair.

"Is it even possible to negotiate with the Shinigami about the rules of the book?" Aizawa questioned, appearing lost in thought. He was beginning to consider the possibility L just proposed.

"Since we do not know what sort of relationship the wielder and the Shinigami have, I can safely assume anything is possible," L paused, waiting for Raito to try and come clean.

Aizawa did not reply, instead he looked at Raito once with confusion running across his face and sank back into his chair.

Raito was lost in thought, he knew no one had any proof that he made Ryuk write anything in the book, heck they did not even have any proof that he was Kira. As long as they lacked evidence, his reputation was clean as a shinning crystal.

"Ryuzaki, you are suspecting my son again?" _Soichiri_ asked quite straightforwardly.

"As long as we do not have the killer safely behind bars, I have the right to suspect anyone I want," he paused at Raito's crackling, unpleasant laughter.

"Here we go again." Raito bared his teeth, giving a bitter smile of hatred. "Is this why you called us here? So we can waste our time listening to your nonsensical babble, which I am sure is quite entertaining." He got to his feet, pulling his coat's collar, as if L's words had injured his fake, savage pride.

"I was about to bet my left eye that it must be killing you from inside, considering the route this conversation has taken." L softly smiled, getting amused at the sight of Raito's features twisting in anger.

"Shut up… You keep mindlessly accusing me of crimes, which I supposedly committed, and yet you have no proof against me." Raito pushed his silky bangs back, licking the leaked saliva off his lips. "How ironic…Isn't it?"

"Strange and ironic. But ironic or not, you will die a dog's death if this does turn out to be true." L kept his gaze locked on Raito's, listening to the shocking sighs of _Soichiri_, and Matsuda echoing across the large room.

"You are pathetic. That old man gave his life for nothing," Raito said, twisting his lips into a half-sarcastic, meaningful smile.

"So what are you exactly trying to accomplish here? Coming clean? Making everyone think that you are a wounded dog whimpering on the floor, while I, the bad man, am kicking you to make the most of this moment?" L questioned, pulling his legs close to the chair.

"I am not coming clean. Ask yourself, isn't this all just in your head?" Raito asked, stepping back to increase the space between the detective and himself.

"Your childish teasing is most amusing Yagami-kun," L answered with victory gleaming in his pearl like eyes.

"Stop this nonsense, and admit it that you are a delusional BASTARD," Raito spat, adjusting his features into a look of murderous anger.

"RAITO," _Soichiri_ screamed in disapproval.

"You look incredibly hideous. I wonder what the women see in you," L answered back, his voice was as smooth as silk. "If you are so disapproving of my ways, then you can kindly drag your feet out of this building, as I am not short of brilliant minds."

Raito's features quickly relaxed, betraying his welling emotions.

"This is precisely why all of you were called here. If anyone is not comfortable with the way things are going, they are most welcome to leave. I will not hold anything against them." L paused, looking intently at the team for any reply. "Also, I am going to make some necessary changes around here."

"What kind of changes?" Matsuda asked curiously.

Raito started rubbing his hands. It did not even cross his mind that the pressing issue of testing still remained unresolved.

"Timing changes," L said calmly. "Your timings here at the headquarters need to be adjusted. I am feeling this work burden has started to take its toll on everyone," he continued, shifting his gaze back and forth from the open file in his hand, to the bewildered expressions of the team.

"But Kira should be our priority," Raito spoke from across the room.

"Yes he should be, but that does not mean we should stop living our lives," he replied, closing the file and handing it over to Matsuda, who took it gently from his hand, wearing an expression of uncertainty..

"We are not allowed to stay here after 5 pm?" Matsuda questioned loudly.

"There is no need to spell things out Matsuda. I believe everything is crystal clear," L replied, clasping the chilly end of the microphone in his thin long fingers.

"So, we can work on the case for five hours a day," said Aizawa, who appeared more than content about the timings, as this would give him more time to spend with his family.

"These timings are designed for your convenience. You are most welcome to take the case files to your homes, study them there, and then bring them with you tomorrow for discussion," L said with the wave of his hand.

Raito remained silent, observing the detective and calculating the possibilities of his next moves weaved by him in an attempt to hinder his progress. His eyes followed the new assistant who made his way in, and stopped his walk next to the detective.

He observed him keenly and thought that he looked cunning, and more professional than a mere butler. However, he quickly shrugged this feeling off, as Watari was also more than just a baby-sitter for the grown-child detective.

A Shrill voice came through the microphone, cutting his long thoughts short.

"I have gone over the recommendations you sent me yesterday, detective," the heavy voice said through the microphone, "I am afraid it is not possible."

Raito's ears quickly stood up at the sound of the last promising words, he was not aware what the detective was about to say, but the excitement of possibility was jolting him between his ribs.

"Commander, may I ask why, considering the gravity of the situation?" L asked, pressing the button at the base of the microphone to let his voice through.

"You do not have enough evidence to warrant the use of this note on a prisoner. You even do not have enough evidence to dismiss the possibility of the extent of involvement of the death god in this matter. It is highly likely that if the Shinigami can write fake rules, they can write the names of the people at the command of the wielder as well. This is a risk we cannot take. However, I can give you this much flexibility, that if you can produce some credible evidence, we can consider this option, but until then, I am afraid there is nothing much I can do. This is my final word."

"I see… I am grateful regardless." L pressed the button, but only silence followed the static sound.

He turned around, and saw the predictable look of victory hovering in Raito's eyes, almost possessing his calm face. He had won the first round… Raito bought this little game.

"_Commander, I believe you should wait, at least till we have not done this," L spoke softly, pressing the mobile close to his ear, but holding it ever so delicately between his fingers. _

"_Do you want to start the count down for 13 days after tomorrow?" asked the man on the other side of the receiver. _

"_Yes this will be most appropriate Commander, as I want my dear friend to think we have lost this round," L said, looking through the window at the haunting darkness outside. _

"_We can bring him and his girlfriend in for questioning if you want us to," the man suggested in a deep, heavy voice. _

"_He is apparently, a respectable member of the police force, and I do not have any solid evidence to hand him over for investigation," L said, stopping his sweeping gaze at the peering, ominous moon. _

"_As you wish… I will proceed on with the testing tomorrow," the man said, cutting the call. _

_L also closed the lid of his mobile, looking at the serene sight of the night sky. _

_He requested Commander Lester to make a false statement in front of the entire team, to give Raito a false sense of victory. This suggestion was actually given to him by his new assistant Giovanni, whom he just dubbed Guy or G. _

_He always got responses like, "Please Sir, do not refer to me by this unprofessional name", or sometimes even cautious mumbles like, "he is too immature to be my boss". _

_It was true that Giovanni was somewhat forced into this awkward, butler like position, but it was Watari who recommended L to keep a member from the FBI team working on the Kira case across the seas. _

_This was also another reason of confidence for L, who was out of options, and out of supporters to win this fight against Raito. _

"I have no problems with the timings," Raito said in a smooth and leveled voice.

L only looked at him once, then he cocked his head to observe the petite model making her way into the facility.

"G, kindly tell this girl via microphone to take her leave. She is no longer needed." L tried to school his features and rid himself of the frown creasing his forehead.

Raito clenched his fists, and before he could control himself, the excitement of the near kill moved his lips automatically, "what do you mean she is not needed?"

Everyone diverted their attention to Raito standing in the corner with his eyes hidden behind the silky bangs.

"Higuchi is dead… I really do not see any reason for her to be here," L gave a short answer with his back turned towards Raito, as he observed Giovanni drawing near the other security room.

"She can still help," Raito asked, trying to get some sort of clue out of L, as to why all of a sudden Misa was not even that trustworthy.

"If you are that concerned, then maybe you can leave with her," L said with a note of genuine tease in his mellow, leveled voice.

"Raito L is right; there is no need for Misa to remain involved in this case," Aizawa suggested.

Raito narrowed his eyes away, hiding those trickles of sweat rolling down his forehead. This matter was not as simple as it appeared… L was hiding something, and Raito wanted to know what.

# # # # # # #


	5. Chapter 5: Radha Ahmir

**Chapter Five**: Radha Ahmir

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_The little girl sat impatiently next to her mother. Her bare feet felt very cold on the chilly pure white marble under her feet. _

_She kept moving her eyes, trying to search for something interesting to pass the time inside the empty mosque. _

"_Mother, how long do we have to stay here? I am tired." She plucked her mother's shawl, who was busy offering prayers. _

_The hall was quiet, save for the frequent sounds from the restless pigeons, and the faint splashes from the fountain standing a few feet from them._

_She looked above at the huge dome. The Arabic Verses etched under the dome looked like beautiful golden trickles about to roll off its surface._

_The girl slowly lowered herself on the floor and curled up next to her mother. _

_She raised her head slightly and tried to look through the mass of black hair flowing over her shoulder. She quickly sat upright; excitement possessed her young face. Suddenly the room was filled with sounds of light footsteps. It was that time of the day when the monks made their way into these divine halls, wearing long, white robes with bands wrapped around their waists. _

_Their heads were bowed down in respect and covered with long white hats. The little girl's gaze followed them curiously, and unconsciously she began to raise herself to her tiny feet. _

_She clapped excitedly and dropped her gaze to look at the marble reflecting the outlines of monks with clarity. _

_"Mother can I go and look at them up-close?" she asked excitedly, smiling at her mother. Her mother moved her head sideways, ending the prayers. She put her palms on her face and quickly offered a few words of prayers. _

_"Yes Radha, you may go. But don't go too far," she spoke kindly from behind her soft hands. _

_"I won't mother," Radha assured and ran for the fountain; its clear, rippled surface was shimmering at the sunrays flittering through the windows around it. _

_The monks stood in silence. They slowly lowered their hands and spread their arms apart. Radha's face lit up with anticipation and an innocent smile graced her tiny lips._

_She touched the marble pillar and locked her eyes on the monks. They had begun their spiritual dance. It was with great rhythm and accuracy that they kept spinning around with their arms spread apart; one was raised slightly higher than the other. _

_They were praying with their eyes closed, humming words from the poetic pieces of a great saint. He had lived here once. There was only one goal in his life; to attain spiritual truth. These monks kept his spirit alive within these walls or at least they tried to resurrect the ghost of a man to gain the love and spirit of freedom he once preached to the people of faith. _

_She narrowed her eyes, intently looking at the thin trickles of tears rolling down their faces. Her mouth parted with a gasp. "They are crying," she wondered aloud. Of course such matters were beyond her understanding, however it fascinated her nonetheless. _

_The halls which were empty a while ago, were now filled with pleasant sounds from the monks. Their humming was almost drowning the cooing of the wild-pigeons energetically flapping their long white wings. _

_Her gaze left the men. Moving her head back, she felt the tiny, velvety feathers land on her creamy face. _

_She stretched her arm and impulsively grabbed one of them out of the air. Radha brought it closer to her eyes and stretched them wide to look at its smooth, thread like ends. _

_She brushed it against her skin. It felt so soft, just like her mother's fingers. She pulled a silken, folded cloth from pocket, and with great care gently placed the feather in between its folds. _

_It was hard for her but Radha folded the corners as well, then carefully and slowly she tucked it in the tiny pocket on her shirt. It would be a gift for her mother. She clasped her hands and returned her attention to the bubbling pigeons. _

_They flew from all corners and tried to catch the moths flying in the beam of morning light. That beam looked like golden elixir flowing down from the unreachable sky. It looked so far and so untouchable. _

_Radha wished she could one day open her eyes, and find herself under a new, welcoming sky. Where the pigeons will roam free and she will fly away with them. A child's dream._

_The wild flaps of a pigeon that had somehow landed close to her, shattered her thoughts. She gave a soft laugh and took small, careful steps not to frighten it. The pigeon let out a soft bubbling sound and moved its breast. _

_It blinked a few times and shoved its head behind its wings. Radha approached it quietly in hopes of catching it, but just when she thought she was close enough, the pigeon pulled its head out from behind its wings. It gave a loud, surprised coo and jumped, madly flapping its pure white wings. _

_"Awww it flew away," Radha said, disappointed as she kept looking at the pigeon _squeezing_ inside a crack high up in the wall. _

"_Radha…Let's go. We have to go to your school," Radha's mother said politely, rubbing her shoulder. _

"_But, mother I want to catch that pigeon," Radha protested; her eyes were still glued on the frightened pigeon, whose tiny head was sticking out of the small crack. _

"_You can catch it some other time. And besides it will get sad if you trap it in a cage somewhere," she said, smiling, looking down at the confused Radha. _

"_I suppose," Radar frowned, pulling her eyes away from the cluster of pigeons flying wildly about the dome. "But I," Radha lowered her head; she was still frightened about learning Japanese. _

_Her mother lowered herself next to the some-what frightened girl. She gently raised Radha's chin and looked into her eyes. "Wedy is a good instructor. I am sure you won't have any trouble with her." _

_That frightened look left her face and she looked content and happy again. "Really?" she questioned excitedly, just to assure herself._

"_Yes…Now let's go or we will miss the appointment." The beautiful woman quickly rose to her feet and grabbed Radha's wrist. _

"_Ok," Radha replied, and started walking hastily alongside her mother. _

_They took quick steps to make it outside. Radha cast one last glance at the monks. They had ended their dance…_

Sitting under the shed of a busy restaurant, Radha looked at the clear blue sky, trying to search that cloud of misfortune that always hovered over her. It was nowhere to be found. The sky…It looked so empty, and there were no pigeons. Their cooing and playful sounds always evoked a sense of happiness within her.

The journey to the land of the rising sun was harsh and painful. The thorns had pierced her inside out. The wounds always felt fresh. No matter how hard she tried; those memories…those burning memories, never left her alone.

She brought her gaze back to the table. It was empty, a tiny wrist watch lay abandoned at its smooth corner.

"Would you like to eat something miss?" The young woman startled Radha.

"No thank you. I am just waiting for someone," she quickly replied and picked up the silver wristwatch to look at the time.

"Alright," the girl replied and left Radha alone to evoke her memories in peace.

She slipped her hand inside her pocket and produced a silken, folded handkerchief. She opened it and watched the soft cloth get wet with her tears.

She raised her hand and realized, she was crying. Tiny tears collected at her finger's tip began rolling down her hand.

The feather was still smooth, but her mother was eternally sleeping six feet under; dried-up and lifeless in Tokyo's graveyard. A sob came to her throat and without suppressing it she let it escape her lips; releasing the heavy burden on her chest.

She pulled her hands closer to her nose and breathed in the strange, pleasant smell emanating from the old cloth…It was her mother's smell. She never washed it after her mother died. Her smell was the only trace left of her in this world.

She lowered her hands, and moved her eyes around. People were talking, laughing, and some were even in love. Her life ended that day…Half of herself also lay beneath the soft grass with her mother.

"_I am not going back to Turkey," Radha's mother yelled at her husband. Radha stood frightened behind her mother. She hated her abusive father, who never thought twice before getting violently physical with his wife or his only child Radha._

"_You! You ill-tempered woman. Give me back my daughter…or…or." The stout man clenched his fist, and raised it threateningly. _

"_Get out of my house…You fool." Wedy stepped in between them; her features were twisted in anger. _

"_So…You decided to stay with this woman after all Amina?" He met Wedy's gaze head on. _

"_What's to you Ahmir? I think she will be better off living with me, rather than with a retard like you," Wedy's voice was cold and menacing, and even he could see the fury of her emotions. _

"_Amina you will go to hell. You hear…HELL," he snarled bitterly, screaming at the top of his lungs. _

"_She is my friend and possibly the only one I can turn to. I do not care what you think. So Ahmir, I ask of you…Leave us in peace." Amina fingers trembled on her daughter's frail shoulder, whose face was filled with fear and her mother's shawl was clenched in her tiny hands. _

"_Fine." There was a hint of mockery in his voice. He stepped back slowly. Now he wore a sarcastic expression on his hard, unattractive face._

_And then he ended their loveless marriage, leaving Amina sobbing with her daughter. _

_It was the end of a horrible relationship, and the beginning of a new life for Amina and Radha. They had lived under his menacing shadow for far too long. _

_However, when the clouds of sadness disappeared, something more sinister overshadowed their lives. Amina fell ill and suddenly…She died. _

_Radha was left all alone; orphaned at the age of ten. She did not know anyone other than Wedy who was her mother's best friend. Amina left Radha in her care before her spirit disappeared from this world._

"_Mother," the little girl cried behind her soft hands as she stood next to her mother's grave._

"_Radha, Amina has gone to a better place now." She gently stroked Radha's silky black hair. _

_Radha pulled her hands back and took a shaky breath. "You lie," Radha softly whimpered and hastily shut her eyes to block out the tears._

"_No Radha I am not…Look at those flowers," Wedy said in a deep, sad voice, trying to divert the attention of the grief-stricken little girl. _

"_What?" Radha brought her attention to the beautiful red flowers. They were clustering around her mother's grave._

"_They are welcoming your mother to heaven." Wedy weakly smiled. Lying to fight back the tears of sorrow. _

"_They are?" Radha questioned. _

"_Yes they are," Wedy assured and firmed her hold on Radha's shoulder. "Your mother is always watching over you." She pulled the little girl closer into an embrace. _

"But why did you leave me…" Radha's lips trembled under the clear sky. She folded the cloth and slipped it in her pocket again.

"I never left you, sweat heart, because I know you are dying to get under the covers with me," the voice came to her from somewhere far, but not surprisingly when Radha lifted her gaze, she met green, mischievous eyes.

"Steve," she said bitterly. It was obvious that his remark about casual sex did not please her. "I thought you died on your way here." Radha folded her arms, gathering her features into that typical annoyed look.

"How can I die without feeling you?" Steve teased slowly, and flopped onto the chair. For a moment they just stared into each other's eyes.

Steve looked away, moving his green eyes in search for his next live-sex-doll. Radha rolled her eyes. The flow of uneasy emotions from Steve was already overloading.

Her mind moved back to the thoughts of yesteryears, and suddenly her lips moved without her even knowing it, "time goes by just like the wind. And we are left behind like small withered leaves in its wake." Radha took a deep intake of breath, and pulled her hand away from her forehead.

Steve, who was quite busy winking at the young waitress and licking his lips, brought all his attention to Radha.

"Such deep philosophy," Steve commented, "I am drowning under the depths of your thoughts." He slowly leaned back on the chair. "Cut it out. I am already too depressed." Steve sounded sad.

Radha gave him a stern look. "Mind your own business."

"Your poetry is surprisingly depressing and deserves a sigh or two from me, but unfortunately, you silly little virgin-girl, today I am not in a mood to listen to someone's tales of long lost friends and those unrequited loves." He slipped his one leg over the other. "Save it will ya."

Radha, throwing a nasty "humph" at Steve took out a new mobile from her pocket. Steve was now humming a strange song, and subtly shaking his annoying red head … He looked happy-go-luck today for no apparent reason. Maybe it was the reply-wink from the waitress, or maybe it was her flowing short mini-skirt. With puffs of wind, it was really not that hard to get a good view of her stain-free white panties.

Radha lowered her head, and glanced at the new-mobile clasped in her left hand. It had already been an hour-long wait for her in hopes of receiving a message from L. She had no idea why L, all of a sudden had this nutty idea of a reunion between them.

The situation was quite uncomfortable when the last time they met. Well, at least for Radha who snatched her skirt from Steve's hand at just the right moment as he was about to raise it further up, just to take a sneak-peak at her panties. It was not even a stealthy move.

"What the hell are you doing?" Radha asked, quite surprised at the gentle lifting of her skirt, and the near-innocent leer on Steve's face.

Radha did not respond kindly to Steve's innocent-molesting habits, and landed a left hook right into his jaw. Steve threw his left hand forward. His right hand squeezing his sex for protection.

Steve's eyes were bulging out as he slowly backed away, horrified from the thought that what was coming next; a kick in the balls.

Left shocked and Dumbfounded by her sudden action, he uttered the first words that came into his genius mind. "Hey don't you dare. I need these nuts," Steve spoke through his clenched teeth. It was not a pleasant reply.

Radha returned to the real world, leaving behind such thoughts that were only making her angrier. She brought her attention back to Steve, who had found a way to pass the time. It was obvious that staring at attractive women was his favourite hobby, and presently he had taken the-Steve-flirt-fest with the waitress to a whole new level.

Steve was a weirdo when it came to long-range and close-range flirts. He knew all the tricks of the trade. Sometimes it amazed Radha how hyper-sexed he was at his age. Steve was the definition of pervert.

"If leers could eat someone up, she would have been dead by now," Radha mocked, looking quite disgusted at his usual habits.

Steve drew a long and dramatically painful sigh. "I feel so sex-deprived," he said in an undertone. There was a fleeting note of something between longing and lust in his sweet, heart-melting voice.

"Your guttery daydreaming is quite enough to feed your vulgar thoughts and out of control sex-drive," Radha said slowly, throwing Steve a distant, sarcastic smile.

Strangely, Steve pulled his piercing gaze from the disappointed woman, and settled it on Radha. He looked ready for another heated, noisy row between them; and Radha was just asking for it now.

"Your point is?" Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on the smooth table.

"Since when did you start caring what people think about your so-called pure-loves?" A frown appeared between her eyebrows but she still maintained her cold smile.

"Since when did you start interfering in my private affairs?" Steve narrowed his green eyes. His features hardened and that look of child-like innocence quickly flew from his face.

"Private?" Radha asked in surprise, looking at the groves of frown on his forehead. "Your winks and whistles have drawn the attention of all the people around us," Radha raised her voice, because Steve was in a nasty habit of annoying her with his flirtatious winks and vulgar hand gestures.

Steve looked around and found a couple of women looking at him with eyes agleam. Obviously, unlike Radha they did not mind.

"You are just jealous, aren't you?" Steve asked with expressive eyes.

"What?" Radha twitched in her chair.

"I don't get you," he said, puffing at the shed's tatter hanging over his head, "on one hand you won't let me give it to you 'hard and fast', and on the other hand you get jealous of such things which are a part of my routine work." A look of wild-amusement flickered across his face.

"Stop talking bullshit. I am telling you to behave because we were called here for a reason." Radha's beautiful features were twisted in anger as she tried hard to keep her voice down.

"Don't pitch a fit. I know." Steve's piercing green eyes left her, finding amusement and solace else where.

"Well, I am glad you…" Radha stopped and returned Steve's shy gaze in disbelief. He had somehow, just with his gestures and some uncanny sex-powers he possessed, made the waitress walk to him… He was a monster…

_He is a monster,_ Radha thought, looking in disbelief as the woman slowly lowered herself in Steve's always-empty and welcoming lap.

"She knows me," Steve explained to the confused Radha between his annoying fruity chuckles, "this is not my first time here … Isn't it?" Steve playfully asked the unknown young woman in some kawaii-Japanese tone.

Radha thought it was the most annoying sound she had heard out of Steve, but the girl giggled and jumped in his lap, listening to a confession of undying love, hard-fuck or Steve-lingo which only he knew.

Radha stared at Steve in openmouthed amazement as he buried his nose behind her black locks and started sniffing her skin like a hungry dog searching for a tasty bone. A flurry of emotions came over Radha's face and she firmed her hold on the mobile, thinking nasty thoughts of bludgeoning his face raw with her mobile.

Radha raised her hand but suddenly lowered it, thinking that Steve's newly made fan girl-club sitting around her would undoubtedly beat her to a pulp. She pulled her brown gaze away from Steve and lowered it to the floor in shame, as their public demonstration of face-sucking was getting a bit out of control.

A puddle of water would have been enough to drown Radha as the ever shameless Steve had already started exploring here and there. Her eyes popped out of her sockets when Steve slipped a hand bravely under her skirt.

The Waitress seemed quite happy though. She sighed a little when Steve did something under that nice school-girl-like mini. Radha's eyes popped out ever more when the Waitress's sighs grew deeper. Her eyes searched for Steve's missing hand, but it had somehow gotten lost somewhere under the folds.

"Will you cut it out?" Radha said, angrily gritting her teeth, "people are looking." Radha moved her eyes left and right in shame. Her face was as flushed as the over-heated girl.

Some of the old couples sitting only a foot away from Radha were grumbling nice abuses, but the rest of the women looked sad; perhaps they were waiting for Steve to finish as if it was their turn next.

"Hmm what," Steve asked out of the haze of sexual arousal. His eyes twinkled and that look of 'do you hard and fast' hovered madly in his desire filled eyes.

"Just … Just stop it Steve," Radha requested pleadingly, stealing a glance at that old and genuinely disgusted couple.

"Why?" He pulled his hand from under the skirt and gave a small pinch on the exposed thigh. "Do you want to join?" he ended with a long lick up the girl's neck.

"You can be such a man-whore Steve," Radha said, ending the argument.

Steve did not respond. His face was buried in black hair, as he nipped and kissed hickey covered neck. It was pointless to try and reason with him.

She needed some thing to block out the rutting noises Steve was making; it was unbearable and beyond humiliating.

Radha kept her eyes away from the heated couple and soon found herself at the mercy of her invading past memories.

Time was the only immortal thing; this is what Radha strongly believed. It was like an ocean, a watery underworld that swallowed everything under its depths. The only things left of its victims were the ghosts of their memories. Her mother's ghost lingered around her and evoked the thoughts of the days they had spent together.

It was painful for Radha to forget her, but the thought that she had lost her only family was even more heart-wrecking for her at such a tender age. There were times when she wept at night and ran out in the open, when sudden wild emotions took over and clouded her senses.

Radha called out her mother's name, but even if her cries pierced through the silent night, they were not enough to bring her mother back. It was Wedy who went through a lot of troubles, making the child realize that there was much more to life than death.

Wedy and Amina knew each other back in their school days in Tokyo. Amina's parents owned a restaurant in Tokyo and she was content living far away from their conservative homeland, Turkey. She befriended Wedy when she applied for the Japanese Literature department.

Amina was fluent in Japanese but Wedy's amazing command over the language made her feel a tinge of jealously. Soon, the competitiveness turned into an unbreakable bond of friendship. However, they got separated soon, pulled apart by Amina's family issues. Amina was dragged back to Turkey and married to the ill-bred man, Ahmir.

What horrors she were to face at his hands; not even her wildest dreams had prepared her for that. Physically and mentally abused for eight long years, Amina lost the will to struggle. She had never stopped communicating with her friend Wedy, who shifted over to Turkey seven years ago for her sake.

Against the wishes of her family, she left her husband's home along with her Seven year old daughter and moved in with Wedy in the Suburbs at Istanbul. Her husband's death threats and the pressure from her in laws, added to her ever increasing problems. Escape to Japan was the only possible solution to save herself and her daughter from being dragged into this quicksand of misfortunes.

But when she moved to Tokyo, somehow she lost her strength to live and embraced death a year later. Rahda was left with Wedy; she showed signs of severe depression at such a young age. Wedy rekindled Radha's passion for life slowly, making the love-deprived girl find some love for life once more.

She started training her in the arts of self-defense and pretty soon found Radha gaining interest in something for the very first time. By the time Radha turned eighteen, she was a double black belt, and an expert in hacking computers, and disarming security systems.

"_Argh! I messed up again." Radha threw the tiny pin aside, and pressed the red button to turn off the alarms of the simulated security system._

_Wedy uncurled her legs and stood up, looking stern. "I told you, this is not a profession for you." _

"_But I want to do this. You just don't understand," Radha complained, clenching a steel rod in her hands._

"_Well, please do explain that where did I actually go wrong in your upbringing, that you decided to adopt my way of living." Wedy's lips were twisted and anger possessed her face. It was perceivable even in her voice. _

_Radha gently placed the rod on the table next to the wires she had cut a few moments ago. "I just don't want to suffer like my mother did," Radha's said, absentmindedly rolling the rod with her fingers. _

_Wedy walked towards Radha and stood silently next to her. Neither of them spoke for sometime. _

"_I understand how you feel, but I promised your mother that I will take care of you. This is not the life for you that I had in mind." Wedy lifted her gaze to the bright sun shining through the windows. _

"_But this is my choice; I want to do this for you as well. Kinda like a helping hand." Radah lifted her eyes, looking at Wedy who looked lost in some long-forgotten memories. _

_Wedy turned around and hopped onto the table. "This job is too dangerous for you, and L is out of his fucking mind." Wedy slipped her one leg over the other smoothly. _

_Radha sprung forward and placed her both hands on Wedy's leather covered thighs. "He is paying us a lot of money. If I do this then we will have enough money to start a new life some where else," Radha reasoned excitedly. Anticipation and the thrill for the reward were written on her young face. _

"_What I want to know, is that why did you take up the offer without my permission?" Wedy asked, meeting Radha's brown eyes. _

"_I knew you wouldn't allow me, so." Radha pulled her hands back and flicked her hair playfully. "I took the offer in your absence." _

_Wedy opened her mouth to say something but Radha quickly cut her off. "I promise, it will be my last assignment," Radha assured Wedy, sounding quite serious. _

L found about Radha when he went through Wedy's files. He was quite amazed and even impressed how easily and slyly the twenty four year old girl was able to get her information, without bothering to use the other deadly tricks she had up her sleeves.

He contacted her directly and offered enough money to convince her to solve that Misa-problem for him. Radha agreed to the terms and started working for him immediately.

Getting information about Takada was another one of her tasks. It was Radha who informed Steve of the possibility that Takada was now vulnerable to male-charms, as Raito had already waved a white-flag at her.

"That's enough!" Radha screamed, slamming her trembling fist onto the table. Their growling sounds were enough to drown out the distant ambulance sirens.

The woman jumped in Steve's lap, startled by the loud noise.

"You." Radha pointed her finger at the terrified girl. "Take a hike before I break your bones," Radha said straight-forwardedly and sprung to her feet.

The girl took this as a hint that she was now being asked to take her leave. She jumped off Steve's warm lap and disappeared inside the restaurant.

"Finally…Some peace," Radha breathed, picking up the beeping phone.

"What the hell is your problem?" Steve adjusted his features into the best possible frown he could create.

Radha rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the message.

"I have received the files. You can proceed with the second phase, and tell Steve to make haste as well. We do not have much time. Next time both of you can contact me after you make some progress," she read aloud.

"Is that all he said?" Steve yawned, stretching out his arms horizontally.

Radha deleted the message and threw a dairy at Steve. Steve caught it and turned it around, examining it thoroughly if it really was his dairy.

He opened the book and flicked through the pages. "That bastard has ripped off, how many pages?" He brought the book close to Radha's face and shook it. "I swear I will pulverize him." He pulled the book back and pressed it to his chest, as if it was some long lost precious piece of treasure.

"Stop whining Steve. You know why you got the book back. And you will not get the remaining pages until you complete your work." Radha placed her hands on her hips.

Steve rose to his feet. "It's a dairy sweetheart," he spoke heatedly, carefully closing the cover and slipping it in his coat's pocket.

"Whatever… L wants you to make a move on her quickly." Radha lightly slapped her forehead. "I cannot believe I just said that," she asked herself in disbelief.

"I know what I am supposed to do… fuck her raw." Steve made a sarcastic face that looked nothing less than a murderous expression.

"Just how old are you Steve?" she asked with her hand on her hip.

"Turned twenty one last year on August 4th… Why?" He turned on her, holding his gaze, looking suspiciously at her.

"You are twenty one." Steve raised a perfect red eyebrow at her. "Why don't you get yourself acquainted with some sparkly rhetoric, rather than annoy me all day with you vulgar, inconsiderate language?" Radha's question sounded more like an accusation.

"I am sorry I just lost my train of thought…again," his voice raised on 'again', teasing her in a matter-of-fact sort of way, as he pretended to look convincingly aroused again.

Radha ran her hands through her hair and brushed her finger over her silky shirt's collar, trying to channel her anger elsewhere.

"When all of this is over, I am going to put my boot in that guy's mouth," he said, looking angry again at the thought of his molested dairy.

"You suffer from mood swings Steve," she accused him of his usually capricious behaviour.

"You know, I can say the same for you … you suffer from lack-of-sex." Steve stretched his head out, leering at her. "That's why you always look so jittery. I can offer a nice warm, hard cure for it," Steve alluded to 'hard fuck' again. His language was rife with these words.

"Why don't you go and shoot your load in someone else," Radha spoke confidently, not letting Steve get to her.

"Whatever." Steve turned around and started pacing for the waitress waiting for him in casual clothes. "At least I have some place to shoot my load in. Bye bye Radha-San," he said goodbye with a lazy wave of his hand, and disappeared with his lover-for-one-night behind the crowd.

"Mother fucking bastard," she cussed Steve behind his back and grudgingly took out her mobile.

She dialed the number with a few harsh presses on the tiny buttons, and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello, this is Misa Misa," Misa spoke in her typical earth shattering voice.

"It is Radha Misa. I just wanted to come over if that's okay with you?" Radha asked politely, playing with the buttons on her skirt.

"Ohhhhhhhh Radha is invited. Misa Misa is so bored today. Raito said he will be back, but he hasn't come back yet. Misa is feeling so sad without her Raito," Misa complained. It was strange how all her topics of discussions revolved around Raito. She had an unhealthy obsession with that guy.

"Alright, I am on my way." Radha ended the call. Her eyes sparkled with a vague emotion, and a strange meaningful smile started playing on her lips.

"Victory favours the bold," she said softly, looking directly at the flock of pigeons sweeping across the blue sky.

# # # # # # #


	6. Chapter 6: Fake Romances

**Chapter Six**: Fake Romances

**# # # # # #**

Steve curled his lips and gently blew the smoke into the air. In was a sunny morning and the streets were crowded. The sun shone brightly in the empty blue sky, looking down at the throng of people amassing streets like jumbled up clues of a detective. Its gentle warm light fell in a heavy yellow cascade.

Steve raised his green orbs at the blinding sunlight. His eyes glazed over with tears. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting those fresh salty tears roll down his pale cheeks.

He was waiting outside the apartment's entrance where Takada was supposed to show up in the coming minutes. He raised his wrist and took a glance at his handsome silver watch. Its tiny arm was moving forward at a steady pace…tick tock, tick tock…

An hour had already passed, and Takada was nowhere to be seen. This was a crucial day for Steve. If he made any mistakes here, all would be lost. However, if she did not show up, this would be a grave error in his plans.

L informed them about the testing of Death Note. The countdown had begun. It was already down by one whole day… What if Takada refused to open up to Steve? What if she did not take notice of his advances at all?

Steve's fingers trembled on the thin cigarette. He smoothly moved his hand up and slipped it in his mouth once more. Even his thin lips felt the confusion and uncertainty boggling his mind. They slightly trembled around the cigarette as thoughts of failure pricked his mind.

His eyes were burning with tears as he continued to look directly at the sunlight. He tightly squeezed them when he felt searing pain at the back of his skull. He threw the cigarette at his feet and rubbed his teary eyes on his palms.

It felt as if they were on fire. He coughed once, letting out the smoke chocking his throat. He lowered his hands and then raised his left hand again to look at the clock and listen to its mechanical soft chimes.

It was teasing him… The time was passing quickly and the rope of failure was tightening around his neck. But there was nothing he could do aside of waiting and letting the object tease him with its soft, almost indistinct ticks.

He threw his head back and breathed in the lovely morning air. He sniffed it again, letting the vague smell of lady's perfume delight his senses. He lowered his head and winked at the giggling women emanating their artificial smells.

Steve pulled the corner of his lips, letting the lustful emotions slightly touch his handsome face. The giggling women stopped at the corner, whispering in each other's ears.

Steve curiously and excitedly looked on, throwing a dirty smile or two at the excited women. One of them walked up to Steve and extended her hand. Steve took it gently in his grasp and brought it up to his lips. His lips just hovered above it, landing a gentle, ghostly kiss.

He let the woman's hand smoothly move above his own. The sparkle in his eyes returned when he felt a tiny paper left by the woman in his hand. The woman smiled seductively and playfully ran off out of sight with her friend.

Victory was in his tight grasp, once more… He opened the small paper, smiling victoriously, as if he already had the woman dancing on the tip of his fingers. The paper had the time of appointment between Takada and him.

He was amazed how perfectly his immature plan worked out. This was a small step forward in making his other plan successful. He looked at the paper and squashed it inside his fist. The paper now looked creased and used. He threw it inside the dustbin, thinking about being curled up in a cozy chair with Takada in his lap.

It was inevitable anyways, since that foolish woman had bought his silly reporter veneer. He had sent her an invitation for interview, informing her that it was a part of his project about the life of journalists and newscasters in Japan.

Seeing his picture on the file must have driven her mad with lust. He smiled at the thought of her trembling hands and the heat between her legs, as she laid her eyes on the photograph of the red haired man she had seen lingering outside the apartment building the other day…

_Well, it could have been that way. Maybe she even masturbated_. Steve let out a hearty chuckle at his childishly stupid thoughts how seductions could work in simple ways. Or maybe it was just the idea from high school porn videos, where students rode teachers in their seats, on the tables etc etc for grades.

Takada had no grades to worry about, so those risqué novels about quick sex with strangers could apply.

"He he he," Steve giggled to himself, standing alone outside the entrance.

He hardly looked like a gentleman with that huge leer running across his face, moving his lusty eyes here and there and just thinking about what surprises were to come.

A woman quickly clutched her little daughter to herself as she walked past Steve.

"Child molesters are on the loose again," she grumbled, stopping next to him.

"…" Steve's mind barely registered child molester, when the bold mother spat at Steve's feet and quickly boarded a bus.

"What the hell." Steve jumped back, and screamed, "Hey I fuck women lady, not minors."

As the bus rolled along the road, the lady's cute little daughter stuck her tongue out and even showed a middle finger, raising it high when her mother looked away.

"Why you little," Steve began through clenched teeth, unable to do anything at the sight of the girl still waving it behind the bus's window, shaking her head in amusement.

He turned his head away … He had never been insulted more in his entire life.

"Wait till she comes here… I am gonna tan that kid's hide." He slapped his hands together in anger. But the girl was long gone and was probably not going to return.

Flushing the anger out of his system, he dragged his thoughts back to Takada and those few words of praise he had written for her. Steve knew this little trick of the trade to make a woman's heart thud against her ribs. He had told her how incredibly beautiful she was, and how focused he felt whenever he watched those broadcasts of her.

It was easy to pursue women this way … and it always worked.

Her shows were horribly childish and immature for his tastes. He loved women, but not those who climbed ranks through other means. Takada in his opinion was highly unprofessional; your everyday pretend-to-look-good girl, sitting pretty on the chair, reading out the lines in front of her with little or no skills.

He wouldn't be surprised if she slept under at least ten heavy men to get her own show.

She was being a bit too easy a catch for him. The women worked in Takada's office. Both of them recently had the privilege to see and feel how comfortable Steve's bed was.

Steve always had it easy, especially with women, who melted like warm butter in his arms. They agreed to make sure his private message reached Takada. This was all they had to do, really.

It was a bit of a hassle to send the message through proper channel and also too time consuming, and time was not the luxury he had. He wanted the woman under his clutches and him as well.

How smoothly it worked out. That was a strange, soothing feeling washing over him gently and slowly, seeping inside his fair skin. Now all he needed to do was spill forth a few words of praise, which must feel like roses to the female kind…life was just starting to get kind for him.

He smiled to himself, letting out a soft playful chuckle. Combing his blood-red hair with those long fingers, he stepped inside and looked up from the sofas set in front of the entrance to the small chandelier hanging down from the roof.

It looked aged and had lost most of its majestic charm. The carvings on its surface were old. The owner of this building bought it in some auction. It was truly a shame that he never bothered to clean it properly; even Steve could see the webs hanging between its golden handles.

"Luke-San?" a man said aloud, popping clumsily out of the crowd clumped next to the elevator.

Steve looked at the man curiously with his hand still buried beneath the soft red strands. The man had a sheepish look written on his face. Steve cocked his eye brow at the unknown man, clumsily clenching a large leather bag under his arm.

He wrinkled his nose and adjusted his glasses, but the bag was still safely tucked beneath his arm. Steve kept looking at him, and then finally said, "yes?"

"Ah," the other man inhaled sharply and quickly grabbed Steve's hand. "I am sorry to keep you waiting like this, but Miss Takada was busy." He vigorously shook Steve's hand. The fake enthusiasm in his nasal voice was already starting to wear on Steve's nerves.

"You are?" Steve pulled his hand to safety, cracking an awkward smile.

"I am her assistant." He freakishly nodded at least ten times. "Oh and … my name is Sarizawa," he added, but his exposed teeth were frozen at their place. Steve easily counted thirty two teeth protruding out of his mouth like an unpleasant surprise before he forced a fake lukewarm smile of his own.

"I will lead you to her apartment. She will be arriving shortly." Sarizawa made an odd hand gesture; Steve could have sworn he had never seen it before.

He silently followed the half-insane man into the elevator, snaking through the cluster of people what looked like Miss Takada's fan-base. They were screaming and shouting out her name insanely. He had no idea newscasters were this popular in Japan… Kind of a little freakish he thought, or maybe all Kira fans had their heads up their butts.

"Miss Takada has a lot of fans, it seems," he said politely, wading through the river of unfriendly fans.

"Yes, she is very popular," the man said, trying to catch his breath as he stepped into the empty elevator.

"She is a very good newscaster," Steve said smoothly, even if he had never wasted his time with her talk shows.

"Well, she is very popular as she is an avid supporter of Kira." He raised his nose high, giving Steve a hard, threatening look.

Steve gave him an approving smile that only played about his thin lips. He cocked his head forward, reflecting upon the possibility that more than half of Kira's supporters were most probably mentally unstable.

"Kira is bringing about a necessary change in this world after all. I don't see why his followers should not receive this much respect." Steve wanted to bite his tongue off and swallow it, but instead he parted his lips into a seductive playful smile, completely sure that this man was homosexual.

"He he he," the man gave a hideous giggle, hiding the blush behind his thin hands.

Steve brushed a strand of hairs under his hand, letting his fingers slip over them like velvet.

"So, you are a reporter?" the man asked again; it seemed as if he knew not the ways of shutting up.

Steve pulled his hand down and slipped it inside his coat, peering into the back of the corridor as the elevator door suddenly opened.

"Yes," Steve softly replied, making the other man's weak heart race inside his abnormally thing chest.

"I love reporters," the man said in a voice which was something between implied seduction and something sinisterly homoerotic.

Steve turned to fully face the man, taking a good look at the genuinely stupid look on his face. "That is good to hear…by the way." Steve stepped outside and spun around, looking at the names written on metal plates hung next to the shut doors. "Is Miss Takada seeing some one?"

"She said she was meeting this handsome fellow Raito… I do not know much, but she has gone out with him several times," he spoke spontaneously with his lustful eyes settled on the remarkably handsome man standing in front.

Steve rubbed his chin, thinking the woman most certainly had some sort of sexual relations with Raito.

"Did he ever come here to visit her?" Steve asked out of the farrago of thoughts rushing through his mind.

"I was only appointed as her assistant about two months ago. If he ever did come to visit her before that, then … I don't know," Sarizawa replied honestly, stepping out and striking for the locked door at the end of the corridor.

Steve followed him quietly. All his enthusiasm seemed to have paled in comparison to this relationship of hers, which was news to him. If she was all lovey-dovey over Raito, then his chances of taking a bite out of the affair were minimal.

However, she did accept his offer without any second thoughts, so he still had a chance at taking a shot at this game himself. Steve unclenched his fist… He could still pull this off; his freedom depended on it.

"This is it." Sarizawa opened the lock, gesturing Steve to step inside the apartment.

Steve leaned his head forward and swept his gaze around, looking at the neat cozy sofa arranged close to the Television.

"I have to attend to some matters, I will see you soon." Sarisawa made that odd hand gesture again. Steve memorized it this time. It was a gay gesture all right. Some of Johnny's friends made it. But what the hell did it even mean?

He saw Sarizawa walk impatiently down the corridor with his head turned back. Steve waved at him as he stuck his head out of the elevator to give that farewell, frightening smile of his, before he finally and thankfully disappeared.

"Weird faggot," Steve hissed, putting his feet inside the apartment. He stretched his hand and gave the door a little push. The door closed with a click.

He moved his eyes to the windows covered with thin beautiful curtains. The sunlight passed through the curtains, slanting on the glass table arranged next to the chairs.

Steve smiled a little and pulled his trusty diary out of his coat. The dairy felt just the way he remembered it. It emanated an old but pleasant smell of a worn out cloth. He leaned down and gently placed the dairy on the smooth table, smoothly removing his coat as he straightened his curved back.

The apartment was small, just like any other typical apartments in Tokyo. He walked close to the window and moved the curtain slightly with the tip of his finger to look down.

He pulled his finger back and examined the woman's magazines sprawled untidily on the sofa. The covers depicted pictures of modern, glamorous, and fake beauties. He tapped his hand over his Jean's pocket, feeling the urge to smoke again, but he quickly dismissed the idea of satisfying himself in front of the society-made lady Takada.

He raised his hand again but this time the click of the door greeted him with satisfaction. Lowering his hand, he looked at the woman who had just stepped in with a subtle seductive smile gracing her painted lips. But it was enough not to escape Steve's keen eyes.

**# # # # # #**


	7. Chapter 7: Love and Obsessions

**Chapter Seven**: One-track Obsession

# # # # # #

Sun was sinking below the horizon, throwing red colour all around like a martyr succumbing before death, yet dying with pride and dignity.

The night shadows were running forward, swallowing up the buildings and lights like a dark sea of blackness raging forward, consuming everything in its path.

The weather was pleasant but the air was being mischievous. It moved and then lay still somewhere around, making the cherry blossom trees dance a dance of ecstasy.

Radha wandered around the busy streets of Tokyo. For some reason, the traffic was less and the feeling of excitement reined the atmosphere. Perhaps it was because of the temple festival due tomorrow.

The residents of the apartment buildings had already started preparations for the festival, hanging strange religious banners outside their homes that were gently rippling with the wind.

Radha's arms were wrapped round herself. It was not unbearably cold but the hint of chilliness in the air was slightly uncomfortable and slightly enjoyable.

She stopped before the reflective window of a huge mall, examining her appearance carefully. This day she had decided to cast aside her Misa-fan veneer and was looking like her usual self.

Her dark brown hairs were flowing over her shoulders, slightly stirred by the wind. They fell back and in front of her chocolaty brown eyes. She wanted to look casual today and was dressed in brown skirt flowing over her thighs.

It was longer than a micro-mini many sexualized teenagers were so fond of, but was not entirely representing the conservative side of her religion either.

If she was back in Turkey, hanging around in the malls dressed like this would have caused quite the scene. She thought that living in an ultra-sexual and liberal society like Japan had its advantages.

Long brown boots covered her till her knees. They were made of pure leather; a gift from Wedy to get Radha acquainted with the wonders and style of leather.

She resumed her walk, tearing her eyes away from the girl in the mirror. Misa's house was less than a kilometer away. She could see the tall apartment building revealing itself slowly, as if rising above from underground.

Radha was unsure as to how the girl should be taken into confidence, or was it just enough to keep Misa busy while Steve did his job?

Unlike Steve, Radha got the nasty things for herself. Her job was to more or less entertain Misa in her hours of boredom. What kind of a stupid job was that? Was L expecting her to carry out things on her own?

Radha shrugged her shoulders; she had got it all covered. While Steve remained wrapped up in his own fantastically real plans, Radha decided to go for the more hands on approach this time.

As Wedy had left for France to tend to her own matters, Radha was left with the nasty drugs at their hiding place. The one she was carrying with her this time was bound to intoxicate Misa like a wine, and make her remember the things she would never even try to bring to her little head otherwise.

Sometimes Radha thought, the miracles of Science were nothing short of miracles after all, as they could facilitate bimbos like Misa to remember the more important things in life.

Radha uncurled her arms and slipped her hands in her pockets. She fumbled in her pockets, playing with the small folded paper.

Her eyes swam with excitement and small tears. They had risen above her eyes like a shield to protect them from the icy wind and its bitterness.

She smiled to herself, hiding her excitement inside her trembling lips; they were quivering to twist themselves into a prefect crescent. But the welling excitement had to wait; there will be a time when she will let it burst out and show itself freely.

Radha hastily raised her gaze and her head to look at the lightening flash like a ferocious flame across the sky. The thunder rumbled angrily afterwards, shaking the windows of the shop standing next to her.

She quickened her pace when the rain came pouring down softly. This was just a light drizzle but it was the time that was bothering her. She looked ahead through the rising mist at the tall building standing proudly next to the tiny restaurant.

The rain had already started wetting the cloth hanging above the chairs, but the customers did not bother moving inside; they were enjoying the change of weather.

Radha walked past them in silence, thinking about her little row with Steve outside the restaurant near Steve's place that involved a woman, a few hand gestures, and white panties.

She slowly walked into the quiet building. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Maybe the reason for this ominous quietness was the missing residents, who had probably left for the shrines to offer their prayers in wake of the pleasant rain.

The rain reminded her of her mother. It had been almost a month since she last visited her grave and shared a thing or two with her. She dreamily looked at the elevator and started sluggishly walking toward it. The faint sounds of singing coming from outside seemed to reach to her through a rainy graveyard.

**# # # # # #**

Misa curled up in the sofa, enfolding herself in her own arms was looking with disdain at Raito, who was as usual, routinely busy with his death note checking. He slowly turned the pages, looking down at the list of criminal victims, whose names had dried out on the note's page permanently, sealing their fates forever.

Raito gave a sinister chuckle, looking at something he must have found quite amusing. Misa however, was wondering what was so damn amusing about playing with a lifeless book and not with her? It was one of those weird fetishes he had.

Playing with her pony tails in a bizarre fashion that she was literally pulling them down with force, thinking about Raito's interest in the other woman, whose name was better suited in the death note, rather than in Raito's personal dairy.

_Personal dairy?_ The very thought made her increase force on her poor ponytail. She lowered her hand and slammed her fist on the sofa. Raito turned his head and looked at Misa with the least amount of sympathy in his eyes. He already knew what was coming.

Misa sprang to her feet, clenching her fists. "I do not like HER!" she screamed, moving her head frantically left and right as if she was criminally retarded.

Raito breathed calmly since he was about to start this discussion with Misa for the seventh time, all over again.

"Misa does everything for Raito, and yet he does not treat her well." Misa paced up and down the room. It was obvious she was quite angry with Raito's recent trips to Miss Takada's residence.

Raito kept staring at Misa uninterestedly, but this untimely outburst of hers was new. He gently closed the death note as if it was fragile like a brittle glass and would break if he applied more force.

"If Raito does not do anything, then Misa… THEN MISA WILL BREAK HER LEGS!" Misa walked up to Raito and showed him her trembling fists threateningly; for a moment Raito thought Misa was going to give him a black eye.

Misa kept staring down at Raito's clam poker face - that always had a hint of maniacal pleasure hidden somewhere - with eyes almost bulging out of her sockets. For a split second Raito wondered, if he did not act, will they get thrown out or not?

Misa folded her arms in huff, pouting like she typically did. She did look some what pathetic today in her g-string panties and that little see-through shirt of hers that was barely covering her breasts.

Her black bra saying hi through the whitish shirt looked in odds with her striking, eye-piercing pink coloured panties. This was Misa's casual stay-at-home dress, and usually she felt quite content in jumping around the house almost naked with no cares in the world. Until of course, this dire situation came up.

"WELL?" Misa squeaked angrily, holding her nose up high like a precious trophy. "Isn't Raito going to say something?"

"Like I have said almost six times before," Raito rumbled, he was losing his temper yet again. He had L to worry about, rather than listen to Misa's stupid speeches all day.

"Fine then," Misa said with a note of sarcasm in her voice. "Raito can find some one else to do his dirty work," she concluded moving away from the shocked Raito, who clearly was not expecting such a brazen remark from the likes of Misa.

"What do you mean?" Raito jumped out of his chair, taken back. This attitude was never seen by him before. Up till now, he had Misa trapped under his thumb like a rat; this retaliation was becoming a nuisance.

"Misa meant what Misa said Raito; if you cannot remain loyal to Misa, then Misa will not write anything for you." Misa spun around, threatening Raito; her face was clouded by anger.

"Are you threatening me? Do you know what that even means? Or are you just spewing hate without thinking?" Raito strode forward, looking Misa in the eyes.

"Misa is not threatening Raito. She just said what she feels. You do not treat Misa well, then why should Misa do what you like her to do? Misa is not your SERVANT!" Misa screamed in rage. They were arguing like a couple about to file a divorce.

This matter had clearly gone past lovey-dovey romance. Raito needed to think fast, or he would lose Misa's help in covering his back.

Seconds were ticking faster than time itself, but Raito for once, found his tongue completely tied. What was he going to say to Misa that he had already not said before? It was obvious, Misa was not buying his drama about Takada's fight against his war on terror; a menacing terror named Ryuzaki.

The way the situation had suddenly unfolded, there was no way even in the darkest pits of hell he would make a confession of stealing three nights filled with passionate sex with Takada to Misa.

He quietly moved back; retreating like an injured snake that attempts to recoil back into its hole after failed attempts at taking a bite out of a stubborn enemy ten times its size.

Sinking back into his chair, defeated by Misa's unexpected and unfortunate outburst, he could not pin his thoughts into cleverly woven words, like he usually did to make his way out of any situation. Of course, Misa's unhealthy love had already bloomed into a strangling obsession and Raito was now struggling to breathe in its deathly snare.

_What should I do now?_ he thought, tapping his fingers on the armrest, sitting like a silent owl in the haunting darkness. If he kept it up, Misa was likely to do something drastically idiotic. It was best to keep quiet.

He tried not to meet Misa's piercing gaze that was settled on him like an unpleasant vengeful spirit that will not leave without his soul.

**# # # # # #**

Radha was leisurely making her way to Misa's apartment, when Misa's echoing, blood-curdling screams made her slow her walk. She gently pressed her boots on the carpeted floor, looking around like a thief who had a pricy stolen jewel clutched in his hand.

She pressed her ear against the wooden door, listening to Misa's lecture and the quietness that followed. It seemed Mr. Raito had little to say in his defence; Steve was right, he was juggling two women like a skilled joker.

"Humph," Misa breathed distastefully and cocked her head almost forcefully at the resounding, artificial chirping of the door bell.

Raito raised his hand to stop her, to at least put some pants on, but lowered it again, thinking this will give Misa another reason to shower him with her venomous temper.

"RADHA!" Misa excitedly greeted, throwing herself at the other girl and embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. "Misa was expecting you." Misa happily declared with her face buried deep in Radha's slightly wet coat.

"Thank you Misa," Radha chocked out, barely managing to utter something out of her mouth.

"Come on in. Misa has made cake for you." Misa grabbed Radha by the wrist and stirred her inside.

"Am I interrupting something?" Radha asked politely, looking at Raito's face twisted in a marvellous expression of pathetic failure.

"Not really." Misa swayed her hips playfully. "Raito was just leaving for his office," she said bitterly but sounding sickly sweet in her small voice.

Raito stood up, silent and watchful of the new assistant. But he didn't say anything and left the apartment, maintaining his menacing silence.

**# # # # # #**


	8. Chapter 8: Incubus and Playtime

**Chapter Eight: **Incubus and Playtime

**# # # # # #**

There might have been times when Raito was the only one who revolved around her life. He was a life force from where she drew most of her energy. A celestial god sent from heaven to clean this world of it sins.

She believed in his ideals, never questioned them, and felt an upsurge of power from his words, still echoing in her ears; so softly, so passionately, "you will be the goddess of my new world."

_A goddess_? The whole idea was bordering on madness, but what is love without all its obsession and madness? It is empty; just as empty as she felt now.

Takada did not even know when that feeling of utmost devotion for this man left her. Yes, she worshipped him and in all its insanity never wanted to let go of the rapture of submission.

She decided this for herself. No one forced this self-submission onto her but the idea of betrayal was taunting her from somewhere afar, and yet she felt its essence imbued in the gusts of wind.

Raito was having an affair with Misa. This was unthinkable. It was a deliberate attack on her pride. Raito had shaken her one-sided affair to the limit, and that thin cord of bond formed between them broke like a fragile mirror.

Her entire existence seemed empty of purpose. Why had she blindly and foolishly set her mind on a single track? Try as she might, it was like trying to find colour amid the blinding darkness. She did not know the answers to her own behaviour.

Driven mostly by instincts, Takada had thrown herself at Raito's mercy, more or less. Now she was a toy for him, a delicate doll he forced to dance mechanically whenever he felt like.

Looking in the face of denial was not the cleverest ways to proceed into the unknown future, or the known bitter-reality. She was being used to push his rivals toward their destined end, but it was not as though retaliation would result in merry tomorrows for her.

Her position was very much like a bird caught up in a net; its noisy fluttering will only make the butcher cut off her head sooner, than later. _Later…Sooner_? This was like living in a nightmare with open eyes.

Now there was no turning back after she had already taken a deep plunge into this man's insane world where the only think he cared for was his own self-glorification. The tidal wave of immense responsibility crashed over her. She could still feel the heavy burden on her shoulders.

She shouldered her own empty coffin as there was no telling when or where the cunning detective would strike again. Raito told her he needed someone to cover his back, to keep that Ryuzaki fellow busy elsewhere.

This was a flawed plan. L was doing what he felt like; it was not as if Raito's actions had any effect on what the other man thought of him. From Raito's recent trips to her home, it was clear he was afraid of L's suspicions. But why was he chilled to his bones when pawns like her were cleaning up his messes?

Takada sat quietly in her office chair, shaking her right leg restlessly. She was thinking about her past one-sided sacrifices for this man that were many a kind. She presented her life, her soul, and even her body, all for the sake of his glorious mission clean-sweep.

She stiffened her leg, playing with the tiny file holder in her hands as thoughts of sexual encounters with this man crossed her mind. Cool beads of sweat rolled down her fair cheeks and she felt a strange stirring of uneasiness recalling the passionate nights they had spent in the past week.

She sensed heat rising between her legs when ghostly fingers of the man who wasn't even there, touched her like a seductive wind playing on her breasts, neck, and her half-naked legs.

Takada needed him; needed him to fulfill her sexual desires, to give her wanted feeling of being loved and protected. The feeling that had suddenly possessed her released its powerful hold on her, leaving her deprived and needy. There was no one she could turn to in her hours of need.

"_I had a fight with Misa today," Raito said grimly, narrowing his eyes away from Takada, who was trying to steal a warm kiss by gently nuzzling at his jaw. _

_Startled by his lack of response, she quietly backed away. "I see," she said softly, her voice trailing off. _

"_I cannot lose her." He suddenly sprang to his feet, leaving a gentle scent of cologne on the sofa where Takada sat, dazed and confused. "If she decides to quit this; how am I going to create a new world?" he questioned Takada, searching for something in her eyes; perhaps, an answer to his rhetorical question. _

_Takada dragged herself to her feet, feeling weary and tired of Raito's personal preference wars. She lifted the end of her coat hanging down smoothly in front of her legs. _

"_I think it will be for the best, if we did not meet for some time." Raito gently grabbed Takada by the shoulders, appearing somewhat sympathetic._

_Takada weakly smiled, brushing her hand on his, nodding in agreement even if her insides screamed the contrary. "What do you want me to do about Mikami Teru?" she asked about the latest addition in Raito blind followers. _

"_I think he is apt enough to handle things himself." He pulled his hands back, smiling victoriously at the taste of unseen pleasures._

"_But, is he to act on his own, or do you have a list of criminals I can give him?" Takada's eyes followed Raito as he paced around the room, cocking his head left and right to memorize the items set in Takada's office. He looked like a rooster looking for his lost hen._

"_No there is no need for it. Just tell him to check out the latest criminal files." He stopped, cupping his chin with his left hand. _

"_From the FBI's database?" Takada asked, tucking a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear._

_Raito did not answer and only nodded in response. He looked excited and it was obvious why. Mikami was the absolute devotee of this self-proclaimed god. His letters were littered with words of utmost praise; the kind lovers usually write to their beloveds and tuck them under their pillows. His obsession was truly frightening. _

"_I have to leave for the office now," Raito said, sounding optimistic after the mention of Mikami. Takada could see the definite switch in his mood. Now he looked keen, cunning, and strangely happy as usual. _

_Takada did not even exchange a few words of good bye and watched Raito silently leave through her office door. Their relationship was breaking apart, and it was only a matter of time when she would be pushed down to the status of his message manager. _

Maybe she was the one who lifted their meaningless, superficial, sex-filled encounters to a nameable status. Maybe she really was nothing more than a woman he used to quench his sexual needs.

Takada shivered in the still warm air of her room; the thought of being used like a whore was mortifying. Even if it was the dirty-clear truth, she would keep on relentlessly pushing it into her subconscious mind … as acceptance violently shook her pride.

Takada momentarily threw away the heavy veil of reality and found herself lost in the green eyes of a young man frozen in the picture. She ran her eyes over his strikingly handsome face, letting the red, rose-like colour of his hair delightfully tease her mind.

"Luke," her lips trembled with the feeling of an unseen primal instinct at the sight of this handsome man she saw lingering around her apartment building the other day.

He said he admired her work, found her very beautiful, and her announcements captivating. Takada's lips twisted into a playful smile and lust started gently creeping over her emotionless face.

She looked down to the crinkled paper lying open in her lap. It begged to be read again. She stretched the paper with her fingers and immersed herself in the man's beautiful handwriting.

_Dear Miss,_

_Many a times I have seen your shows, and found myself enthralled by your mesmerizing and charming presence. I think I get lost in the words you passionately utter from out of passion burning in your breast. _

_Kira's cause should have been made known before the world, long ago, and you are doing an admirable job by spreading the message of truth for all those who are hopelessly oblivious to his kindness. _

_I am a simpleminded man, entangled in confusion and want to get acquainted with this beautiful lady of few words, as I wish to introduce her overseas through my project on media in Japan. _

_I will understand if you desire to ignore this; but I shall never forget this kindness, if you would just spare me a few moments of your presence. _

_ Your admirer, _

_ Luke._

_A handsome admirer?_ It sounded so fleeting, like a passing dream filled with lusty thoughts and restless moments …utterly flirtatious. But even if the feeling barely touched her, she wanted to clutch it in her hands. Maybe that's why she agreed to the meeting.

The man was waiting in her apartment but his trail of unseen invitation for some much needed sexual adventure was being felt by her in this deserted office.

**# # # # # #**

Radha's plan was simple and Misa was extremely easy to handle. The part of conversation she had caught between Raito and his squeaky girlfriend was enough for the confirmation of L's suspicions.

Just as L had thought; he was using Misa to draw attention away from him. She was his pawn in channeling suspicions and questioning glances else where. _Not very clever_, Radha thought, and the timing could not have been perfect to lay bare those vague facts for all to see.

What better way to accomplish this seemingly impossible task, by doing it the old fashioned way.

Radha partially closed her eyes, looking at Misa from under her long lashes. The sight of the blonde princess was quite amusing. The drug had already taken full-affect, and Misa after five minutes, had totally lost it. Radha would not be surprised if Misa did not know the difference between her busty chest and her round bum.

Misa was humming a song in some weird language, which was half-Japanese and half something unheard of. She kept slowing rocking back and forth, curled up into a ball with her between her knees. She looked like a little blonde turtle with its head stuck in the shell. Her blond hair were spread untidily on her bare shoulders…She looked miserable.

"How did you find the other Kira was Raito?" Radha asked, staring down at Misa for a response. She had already asked about her relation with Rem and how she got hold of the book, so she decided to cut to the chase and ask a few important questions, as Misa was slowly drifting into a state of complete senselessness.

"Huh?" Misa raised her head, focusing her vision on the blurry woman sitting calmly across the tiny table. "Oh…I have the Shinigami eyes…"

"Shinigami eyes?" Radha excitedly twitched, quickly cutting her off.

Misa gave a huge nod, moving her head backwards and forwards like a tube-well's water drawing mechanism. "The Shinagami have eyes; they can see the names of all the people above their heads."

Radha's beautiful full lips went dry and she froze. The room felt chillier by the minute, as if death itself was lurking in the shadows.

_So this is how, she kills people…She knows their names, just by looking at them,_ she thought to herself, frightened of the startling revelation that this woman knew her full name.

"You see," Misa continued, tearing Radha away from under the grip of carnal-fear. "I gave up half my life for them…That is how I found out that Raito was Kira…You cannot see the lifespan of people who wield d-death note…a-a-above their heads, o-only their na-names." Misa squeezed her right eye shut in an attempt to playfully wink, but she looked as if someone had just busted her eye.

Radha's eyes were locked onto Misa whose finger was still proudly pointing at the unseen name above her own head. She felt entranced by this silly, yet frightening embodiment of death. The mixture of her playful personality with killer like characteristics made her even more dangerous than Raito…This girl was the perfect killer, and yet how cutely she talked, and how playfully she walked…This was a befooling disguise.

The look of fear had settled in Radha's face, moving in and out of her eyes. She ran her fingers over her sweaty chest, feeling her heart burn of death under her fragile ribcage.

"What is Raito planning to do?" Radha suppressed the fear pulsing through her entire body now.

Misa slowly and impossibly got to her wobbling feet and limped onto the empty sofa. She felt quite content with the new comfy spot, purring and making delightful noises as she brought her keens close to her chest.

"He wants me to forfeit the note…Pftttt." Misa curled her arms round her knees, sticking her tongue out angrily at the desk in front of her.

"Forfeit the note? What do you mean?" Radha stood up and walked up to the dazed girl who was bobbing her head to the song she sang.

"Forfeiting the n-note….makes you forget!" She spread her arms apart happily. "You don't remember any-anything when you give up the note!" She widened her eyes in excitement, looking quite like those typical escaped lunatics people are warned about.

"That's why she and Raito did not remember anything. They gave up their ownerships," Radha thought aloud, clasping her hands together.

"He is going to give it to that BITCH Takada…MISA HATES HER!" Misa curled her fingers into mighty fists. She looked determined do take her rival out, in this bedroom, who gets laid under Raito war.

"When is he going to make you forfeit it? Is the note here in this apartment? Misa?" Radha vigorously shook Misa by her shoulders but Misa looked as if she understood little.

"Today…" Misa fell onto the sofa lifelessly. "Raito has the note," she breathed out softly, before she fell completely unconscious.

Radha stretched her hand and stopped the voice recorder. She was content with the information stored in the device but Raito had already shifted his mission to Takada. Radha slipped the recorder in her pocket and threw a blanket over the almost naked girl.

She was still looking at Misa, reflecting upon the possibility of a piece of note in the apartment when Raito stepped in, looking tired, and agitated.

He turned his gaze to Misa and then returned it onto the calm and collected face of the girl in front. Her beautiful features suggested nothing of the conflicts and fears coiling in her heart.

"She fell asleep…I think I should be going now." Radha slightly bowed down in a traditional Japanese manner and walked out of the killer's home...It was obvious; Misa's playtime and obsession with death note was over.

**# # # # # #**

Takada held her breath, intently looking into the green eyes of the man standing courteously and looking marvelously handsome up-close. He returned Takada's bewitched gaze calmly and managed a full charming smile.

"You must be Luke," Takada asked hesitantly, pressing her hands close to her fluttering heart.

"It is truly a pleasure to meet you," Steve said warmly, creating a small lustful expression on his face…Takada was not that bad looking after all.

Takada smoothly gestured Steve to make himself comfortable on the sofa, but Steve's mind had already started fantasizing the aroma of sex in Takada's bedroom. He lowered himself on the sofa and slipped one leg over the other, eying Takada's flushed face with wild enthusiasm…This was going to be easier than he expected.

He was a master in detecting lovelorn expressions playing on the fairer sex's face. And this woman was going to end up under him inevitably, sighing with ecstasy, as she will soon come to know that he was the mortal incubus of this universe.

Steve traced the corners of his rough diary, feeling his hands magically playing over Takada's breasts, her legs, and face. He pulled his lips apart, leering and getting amused at his mental progress.

By the time she planted herself close to him, a tempest of desire had already reached its height, but his features were perfectly schooled to give the look of a pure, sophisticated gentleman who keeps such thoughts at bay when he chats with the ladies.

"You wanted to interview me?" Takada asked shyly, pressing her hands together; she felt nervous around Steve.

"Yes." Steve fully focused his attention on the girl sitting next to him, staring straight into her desire-filled brown eyes. She looked entranced by his presence, as if he was the incubus who roused her lust in her dreams. "I hope you read my letter." He tried to strike up a decent conversation, despite the fact that Takada was slowly getting entangled in his universe.

"Y-yes," she wobbled, throwing a hesitant warm smile; her face flickered of passion. "Your handwriting is very beautiful," she complemented softly, narrowing her eyes away like a traditional, conservative Asian woman.

Steve threw his head back and gave a soft laugh. Takada found the chime of his laughter delightfully alluring. He truly was extremely beautiful; his green eyes flickered of mischievousness, his face was that of a god, and his neck was as beautiful as an ivory vase…And yet, he looked masculine with his lithe physique, and perfectly toned arms…She had never met anyone quite like him.

"I am glad you feel that way." Steve threw her a genuine smile then he slightly dropped his gaze to her chest, getting aroused by looking at her breast slowly moving under the white shirt.

"You…are doing a project?" Takada asked, not tearing her eyes away from his face.

"Yes, I work for a national newspaper and wanted to do some research on the media over seas," Steve explained one of his quickly made up stories.

"I see… You are a full-fledged journalist then?" Takada produced the tiny paper from her purse…It was the same letter he had written her.

"I apologize, I did not fully explain that in my letter," Steve said, dropping his eyes to the paper and looking further down at Miss Takada's creamy legs.

"No, it's quite alright…I…oops." The paper slipped from her hand and fell close to her heels.

"I'll get it," Steve said quickly, leaning down to get the paper. He picked it up gently. Straightening his back, he snaked his fingers along with the paper smoothly up her legs, feeling them tremble under his ghostly touch.

"Here you go." He extended his hand for the woman, who was completely frozen at her place; rooted on the spot, as if someone was holding her there. She remained silent, meeting Steve's meaningful eyes… Her mind had been left unhinged by this small assault. Little did she know, that Luke better known as Steve, had a lot more up his sleeve than petty caresses up her leg.

Her lustfully confused expression was a dead giveaway of subtle submission, but Steve was not going to progress any further. He wanted her to lust for him day and night, till the point when he would be the only one reining her thoughts.

"Excuse me." He placed the paper on the table and hastily got to his feet. "Yes," he said softly into the mobile phone.

"Well…Where are you?" Radha asked.

"Doing my project," Steve replied, picking up his coat and dairy.

"I bet she screamed with delight. Your projects can have a very hands-on approach," she said sarcastically.

"I have not even started it yet. I will be there in 30 minutes," Steve said quickly, ending the call.

"You are leaving?" Takada said, sounding very disappointed.

"Yes, I am sorry. I have to leave. Something important just came up. I will be back in the evening, if that is alright with you?" he asked, creating a disappointed look of his own.

"Yes, why not," she answered, her eyes still bent on his face. After all, he was not the only one looking forward to their next meeting.

**# # # # # #**


	9. Chapter 9: Ripped pages

**Rating Warning**: This chapter includes an intimate scene, involving mild oral sex, and other sexual content. Do not come running to me that you were not warned beforehand.

**Chapter Nine: **Ripped pages

"Uphold me I have fallen upon the thorns of life; I am bleeding," Steve whispered these words into the quietness, which had fallen over the dark room. These last few days he had done nothing, but fuel the thirst of desire, waiting to be quenched in Takada's heart.

He felt completely satisfied after putting out his own fire. Slowly, he cocked his head to the woman, lying naked under the crinkled white sheets. Her back was turned toward him as a sign of shyness, and guilt.

Her milky arm embraced herself, as if hiding a little bit of virginity left in her. Not that she was a virgin, but the way she had pulled the sheets over herself after the climax of their sexual encounter, was befooling enough.

She did not speak a word, and lay there, still, curled up a safe distance away from him. Steve looked down from her wet hair, hugging the back of her sweaty neck, to the depression right in the middle of her bared back.

His eyes burned a path down her curvy figure, finally resting on her covered thighs. Takada most certainly had drifted into sleep, even if she had forced her eyes shut awhile ago, so that the other man would not be able to start a conversation.

Steve pulled his eyes away, and brought his gaze upon the ceiling, thinking about how, and where his life had pushed him. He should have been with his mother in London, instead of catering to the sexual needs of the sexually-deprived women.

He drew a heavy breath, smiling; his eyes swimming with alluring-tease. Takada's scent was still lingering in the bedroom, dancing, and kissing his sensitive spots. She begged to be tasted, and teased again.

Steve returned his gaze back to the woman, who looked quite stiff, as if she had just read the thoughts flooding through his mind. He dragged himself close to her body that still felt warm in the chilly air settled in the room.

Takada let out a soft, startled sigh, when she felt Steve's fingers ghosting on her thighs, and his warm breath dancing on her neck. His mouth, open and warm on her sensitive skin, sent sparks of excitement through her body.

His whispers for the desire of love were tearing her away from her sleep. Now she was awake, yet being enveloped by the dream-sea of lust. She turned for Steve slowly, letting his hands play on her body so perfectly, as if she was a musical instrument, waiting to be played skillfully in his hands.

Takada's face looked possessed, as she nuzzled up to him, parting her lips with a passionate sigh, moving her head back to allow Steve to take a bite out of her neck. Steve's mind moved back and forth between thoughts of sex, and the note he was supposed to find somewhere in this apartment.

Even with his face buried in her neck, it did not stop him from smiling, that the plan was moving along perfectly. Everything turned out just the way he had hoped. Takada was not even remotely aware of his plans. All of her memories of Raito, and death note were blocked out, and securely locked somewhere in the deep reaches of her mind.

Steve slowly pulled the silk sheet down, removing it from over her light brownish areola, and those nipples standing up in heat. He bent his head, running his tongue over the left breast, and snaking his fingers over the other.

Takada let out a sharp sigh, when Steve caught her sensitive nipple between his teeth, and playfully nipped it. He gently rubbed the nipple under his thumb, pressing it over the bumpy surface.

Takada let out another loud sigh, feeling Steve progress down with kisses, and licks. He trailed a hot, wet path down her naval, feeling Takada's warm skin tremble under his moist tongue.

His warm breath fanned over her inner thighs. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach, and the throbbing pain of need in her sex. The scent of her sex's wetness was more of a heady aroma for Steve, who wasted no time in giving some oral attention to Takada's most private female area.

Steve's tongue could do wonders. It could produce nice heavy accents, help him get out of tight situations, and warm up the coldest of women. His muff-diving secret, self-made Zen techniques were quite legendary… He was just so good with his mouth.

Takada was so lost in the long, and short licks on her clitoris that for the time being, her role as the Kira supporter, and her past relationship with Raito did not even matter. She was perfectly content with the red haired handsome man's face buried between her legs; so it did not hurt to let out some sighs of utmost joy.

This is exactly what Miss. Kira supporter, extraordinaire was doing. Getting herself involved with an unknown reporter, was like indulging herself with an expensive red-wine with unknown, and intoxicating effects.

Ah red… Steve indeed was no less invigorating, and sinfully-intoxicating than those fancy alcoholic-delights. Even searching her memory through hazy thoughts proved to be a matter of uselessness. She never had had such a passionate time with anyone else ever before.

And it was difficult to concentrate on past memories, because Steve (Luke) was so good. Takada's body was on fire, and Steve's flexible tongue was only sprinkling much needed fumes of fuel on it.

Whatever Steve was doing with his tongue, Takada was hardly aware of it now. Her whole body was left numb and alive within one second. Jolts of need and pleasure intermingled with one another ran up from her sex, spreading like wildfire all over her body. Her nerve endings prickled under heavy pleasure, drawing out shallow, shaky sighs from her.

Her head was spinning violently with desire. Searching for a thought was like fumbling through a field of red roses for a tiny needle. Her skin trembled under Steve's fingers ghosting over her right thigh.

Takada, with great effort opened her fluttering eyes, and looked at Steve's head, which was dark under the shadow of night. She had no idea when Steve had pulled both her legs onto his shoulders, as she could barely feel them; they only sprang to life under his fingers. If it was not for his strong arm curled around them, they would have been lying lifelessly on the bed.

Takada's body was falling apart under the waves of multiple orgasms. Her sweaty thighs felt prickly under the silky red hair spread over them. They looked like a pool of blood on her fair skin.

Steve was truly an angel form this mortal world; where he spread nothing but good, by attending the unattended women. An incubus he truly was, only with an angelic face, and because of all the goodness in his heart.

If she were to describe him in one word, it would be handsome-as-sin. And a sin she had committed, by tasting this red-haired, gorgeously-inviting fruit from hell. If Raito ever found about her extra-curricular activities…She will have to pay dearly for this fun.

Shrugging off those unwanted thoughts about Raito, Takada arched her back up to Steve, who had travelled back on top of her a few moments ago, and had also secretly slipped his length inside her. She quickly embraced him closer, parting her thighs wide to adjust his narrow waist.

She snaked her hands down his slick-spine, finally resting them on his jean covered behind. It appeared that Steve was quite the prude when it came to stripping down to nothing. But it was of little importance to her, or her body that was rocking with his deep thrusts.

_For their meeting Radha had selected another restaurant outside the bustling city. It was a nice quiet place, where fewer people made fewer noises, and hindrances. _

"_Did you really have to select this place?" Steve asked politely, creating a small, amusing frown on his face, "it took me almost an hour to get here…This better be good." He pulled the lit cigarette from his mouth, and pressed it slightly into the ashtray. _

"_Yes, this is good." Radha leaned forward, meeting Steve's clear, green eyes. "Raito has already asked Misa to forfeit the note, and do you know whom he is lending it to?" _

_Steve coughed, waving his hand in the curls of smoke gathering in front of his face._

"_Takada… who else," he barely managed between coughs, pressing his hand on his chest to catch his ragged breath. _

"_This stuff will kill you…And what are you on this time? Crack?" Radha quickly coiled in her chair, as if the smoke was contagious. _

"_This is my last smoke," Steve breathed roughly, pressing the used cigarette in the ashtray. _

"_Really?" Radha asked, amused of his new-found resolve. _

"_I am serious. My mother does not like me, getting indulged in such." He picked up the extinguished cigarette. "Health-hazardous activities," he concluded putting the almost black cigarette back in the tray, looking at it with longing in his eyes. _

"_I never knew you were a mommy's boy," Radha joked. _

"_Well, that's a very sweet comment, but I prefer something along the lines of love." Steve directed a fake, annoyed smile, emptying out his pockets of different light drugs, such as crack, packs of strange looking cigarettes, and a few folded papers hiding unknown substances. _

"_What the hell are you doing? If someone saw this…we might end up in jail," Radha warned bluntly, looking at all the drugs haphazardly spread over the table. _

"_These are normal drugs…I don't do heroine," Steve replied, pointing his finger at the abandoned drug merchandize. _

"_Why do you smoke all this stuff anyway?" Radha asked, peering cautiously at the back of the counter. _

"_No idea," Steve said quickly, sweeping the drugs off the table, and into the paper bag. He smiled at the young woman standing next to the counter, who quickly came running to attend to the young man. "Can you please throw this out? Just some useless stuff," Steve requested, sounding sincere and gentlemanly. The woman took the bag from his hand, and disappeared behind the counter. _

"_Now I know why L chose you," Radha said, eyeing Steve teasingly. _

"_That is good to know. So, this means you are off the job." Steve pulled his collar up, raising his left eyebrow at Radha's grim angry face staring back at him. _

"_Yeah yeah whatever…You don't have to rub it in my face." Radha looked away intentionally, not in a mood to let another one of Steve's cocky, victory looks spoil the rest of the day for her. _

"_Don't worry strawberry cakes, I got it all covered." Steve moved his bangs back with the sweep of his hand, smiling vivaciously._

"_Don't let a little victory get to your head. That woman is dangerous." Radha pulled the flying Steve, sweeping through the day dreams back in his chair. _

"_I never said that she isn't, but seriously, she so wants me inside her." Steve softly laughed, letting lust cloud his face. _

"_And how do you know that?" Radha questioned, annoyed at his untimely victory gestures. _

"_She has left about dozen messages, since I left her place." He handed the mobile over to Radha. "Apparently, she seems to be apologizing for her late arrival. And the rest of the messages are about our future meetings…and of course how that dorky picture does not do me any justice."_

"_Dear Lord." Radha scrolled down through a dozen messages, which were sent within an hour or so. She was utterly surprised that Steve was yet again right about Takada's abnormal needs. _

"_You see." Steve flashed a sparkling, lusty smile. "I am always right."_

_Radha returned Steve ravenous gaze calmly. At first she was not satisfied with L's choice. To her, he was just a perverted man with a much needed twist of education, and intellect. Yes, he was better than your intellectually challenged public, legions better, but deep down, he was just another sex-hungry man. _

_However, after spending days with this wild, red-haired youth, she had slightly changed her mindset about this handsome man, sitting across the table. He was quite cunning, and his specialty with woman, made him apt for this task, involving lovelorn, needy women, and their dangerous manipulators. Long story short, he was a man with eccentric experiences, as know one knew the art of war, and lust better than him…_

_Radha blocked out the thoughts, and quickly wiped the look of slight fear flickering across her face with a small smile. "How long is this going to take?" she asked, putting the phone on the table. _

"_About a five to six days," Steve said smoothly, schooling his features into a clam, composed look. _

"_How are you going to find the note?" Radha asked, appearing preoccupied. _

"_My theory is; she keeps a piece of note with herself…And the death note is with someone else." Steve leaned back on the chair. _

"_This makes sense…because there is no need to make her keep two death notes." Radha crossed her legs. _

"_Exactly, which means Raito has another person working for him, whom he trusts more than Misa, and Takada; a man," Steve deducted, smiling to himself, as this was the most appropriate way out for extremely biased Raito. _

Moon light lay silently on the curls of the small fountain next to the apartment buildings. The full moon shone brightly, like a fresh pearl taken out of the shell's mouth. Six days had passed, since he last promised Radha to move this case to a closing point, before he began his next move.

Today was the seventh day, and he was feeling rather overly-confident by the turn of events. Takada called him out of the blues at 9pm, asking him to come over to her place for another interview. Steve could have passed the offer, but had to take this chance; he just wanted to get this over with.

He had done all he could to coax Takada into an intimate relationship. He took her out a couple of times, paid for her food, which he always did whenever he took a lady out, sent her letters and interviewed her whenever she was free.

In those flirtatious meetings, Steve always wore a warm gentlemanly smile, and tried to drag the course of discussions away from Kira to Takada's personal life. She was not reluctant enough to share tidbits of her nights with Raito, whom she only referred to as her 'cold boyfriend', but she did say that his extra affairs were driving her mad.

Steve stole lusty glances with her often, and whenever he got the change he complimented her good looks, and once, even managed to brush her cheek with his fingers. Fortunately for him, Takada was far too lonely these days to put him back in his place.

At this time of the night however, her moves were blatant, to the point of obviousness. She definitely wanted some sort of amusement in her hours of requiem, and Steve was the obvious choice to break the rigor mortis's settlement in her so-called, boring life.

Steve obliged, asking her about the urgency of the situation, just like any polite man would, but he left regardless. What awaited him at her extra-cozy residence, were a plethora of surprises.

She not only landed the personal secretary job in his hands; temporarily of course, but let him inch closer to her for a kiss. The deep kiss progressed to touching, and seeing that Takada was offering herself willingly, Steve decided to let her become the bait.

He quickly took the kisses down to her breasts, and literally ripped off her half open shirt like a kid unwrapping the birthday present on his very first birthday. Takada never protested when Steve lovingly pawed her under him. She did not say no, when he slipped his hand in her panties, she never objected when he pushed her bra up and played with her breasts, and after such pleasures she dared not to stop him when he did her hard and fast.

But he still had horrible nightmares, where Takada laughed with Raito telling him that it was a one night stand, and that the 'sexy red haired clown was no longer needed, because Raito was bigger than him…'

"The bastard could never be bigger than him, even if he decided to hang a huge weight with it," Steve always reasoned, whenever he woke up sweaty and hard next to his new play thing Takada.

Yes, all those dreams were just dreams, because Takada was so impressed with Steve's dexterity with his fingers, his wet hot mouth, and the thing in his pants that she decided to continue the steamy affair, even if Steve's long stamina, and hard thrusts left her wobbly and sore in the morning. All was going well in her funny little, Raito free world…

Worn-out by yet another round of steamy sex, Takada had fallen into a deep sleep. The ever vigorous Steve dragged himself up, looking at the woman who will most likely sleep through an earth quake.

He thoroughly combed his wet hairs with his fingers, sweeping his eyes around the room, but searching for an answer in his mind. The wind coming through the open window, made the thin long bells hanging over it chime slightly.

Snaking his hand on the bed, he slipped it under Takada's pillow, but felt nothing. If she kept a piece of death note with her, she was bound to keep it close.

"But where?" he breathed, pushing the bangs out of his eyes, and turning his face to the steady, cool draft.

He jumped out of the bed, and peered out into the silent night, breathing in the smell of the gentle rain. It was a persistent, soothing smell, lingering in the air as the drizzle had stopped.

He stood there for a minute, then turned around, locking his eyes on the clothing which lay abandoned on the sofa. He paced to the pile of clothing, and gently picked up Takada's shirt.

Steve examined it thoroughly, but to his disappointment there were no hidden pockets even on the inner side. He threw it aside and grabbed Miss Takada's ashen panties. He flapped them a little, just for the sake of amusement, then threw them aside next to the unbuttoned shirt.

"This is stupid," he rumbled, thinking that he was probably mistaken about her choice at hiding notes, next to her nubile, naked body.

Frantically fumbling through the clothing, he grabbed Takada's white bra, but twitched a little at the crackling sound. He pressed the cup-shaped section again…There was something definitely put between the cloth.

Carefully, he brought the bra close to his face. "Naughty girl." A taunting smile crept over his face, at the sight of a small paper folded neatly between the section split open at the top.

He reached for his pocket, and produced a thin cloth. L had told him not to touch the note, so he pulled the paper out, after safely covering his hand under the thin barrier of cotton.

The paper was small, and had the names of all the criminals Raito had asked her to kill in the past week. This was a page ripped from the death note…there was no mistaking it. He breathed in the sweet smell of ink, which sent delightful shivers of excitement, and fear straight to his bones…

Slipping it back into its rightful place, Steve arranged the sprawled clothing, and went back to bed, lying beside the quietly sleeping Takada. Now all he needed to do, was to find the Death Note, then his job with L will be done…


	10. Chapter 10: Closing Chapters

Comments: I was going to post this chapter as it was, but decided to add a lot of scenes init, including some intimate ones.

**Rating Warning**: I felt like giving another warning. I have added two more sex scenes in this chapter. Tread carefully.

**Chapter Ten**: Closing Chapters

L stood silently next to the window, looking outside at the new horizon stretching out before him. The Day of Judgment was drawing near. He could feel its sharp claws opening and closing; its vicious cries, frightening and threatening. But he had to wait…Wait for the right moment, before he took another step.

Steve was quick to give all the report to L. L felt victorious, proud, that his instincts had yet to fail him. He was not wrong about Steve's prowess, nor were his calculations wrong about Takada's involvement.

Just when an expression of triumph almost possessed his face, another emotion started to creep its way to his lips. It was just too soon to call this a victory. Steve's detailed analysis of the situation was haunting him. Raito's lies and deceits were staring at him with their mouths wide open. What was he up to?

Who was the fourth person involved in this game? The thoughts of fear and confusion tore open a rift in his blank mind, bringing with them terrible confusions anew. L did not know where to look, who to ask, and where to search. If it would have been in his power, he would not have left any place unchecked, and not a man unasked. Even with all the resources in the world, this case truly was beyond his abilities.

"Ah." He blinked, startled by the whipping of the rain on his thin window. He looked up, peering at the thick clouds that will not let him see any further. He had been vacantly staring at the outside world…It did not even occur to him when it started to rain.

He buried his hands in his pockets, and turned around to the delightful sounds of sliver folks clanking, and the ice-cubes chiming in the fragile glasses. It was dinner time already, and Gevanni as usual was busy setting up the trolley with a twisted face, and an awful smile. It was obvious, he clearly was unhappy with his butler duties.

He flapped the handkerchief, throwing forced and ugly grins which were enough to give L the mild-Goosebumps. After directing another fake look or two, he hid his face behind the tower of delicious looking brownies.

"Would you like something else…Sir?" Gevanni stressed the last word, getting to his feet.

"No thank you G. But I would like to ask you something. Is it possible for Raito to pick someone from Miss Takada's show?" L asked, perching himself awkwardly close to the brownies.

Gevanni's features lit up like a lantern; finally he was being asked something well-suited to his profession. He cleared his throat, letting his pride wash over him gently. "It is a possibility," Gevanni said, standing proudly like a lion, with his chest out, and hands securely clasped behind his back.

"Even I know it is a possibility G. I actually want some sort of explanation from you." L inched closer to the brownies, pocking at them to check their hardness.

"Well," Gevanni began slowly, arousing no apparent interest from L, who was happily lost in his own brownie-world, "by possibility, I mean, it is likely that Raito asked Takada to start this show in the first place."

L stared at him with dropping eyelids, chewing on the brown delights like a bored cow grazing the green fields.

"For recruiting people I suppose," Gevanni stopped, taking a good look at L's impassive contours.

L rolled his eyes, and gulped the thoroughly chewed brownie down his throat with an expression as if he was just about to choke on it. "This brownie was a little hard," he said, almost distastefully, and pinned another one down his silver folk, "please continue."

Gevanni shrugged off L's usual attitude trying to get to him. "This way he may have a strong entourage of supporters," he concluded, observing L testing another brownie thoughtfully.

L seemed to have got bored of the brown sweets, as he had already emptied more than half the tray. Now he looked interested in the creamy fruit salad that looked colourful, and inviting. He placed the folk aside, grabbing the clean silver spoon set close to the frosty salad. He was having a merry pin now, looking mechanically at the red and yellow freshly cut fruits swimming in the thick mass of virgin cream.

"Why do you think that G? This reason is not logical enough for me. Do you have any other reason to support your logic?" L said, cocking his head to take a glance at Gevanni's face, which was not clouded by pride anymore.

Gevanni turned his eyes away from L, opening his mind for more possibilities. Maybe L was right; this probably was not the reason of his selection. "Perhaps he just wants a stronger ally," Gevanni said in a deep voice, meeting L's eyes clouded by the heavy sweets aroma.

L licked the spoon, and slowly sank into the sofa. "You are right G, and here I was beginning to question your taste in brownies. This chef clearly needs to get fired. The brownies were as hard as rocks, enough to choke anyone in their sleep." L stretched his lips into a smile, but Gevanni only weakly smiled back at the happy detective.

"At least the salad was nice," Gevanni mumbled at the sight of a strange smile, which looked artificially pasted on detective's face.

"It seems that our dearest friend does not trust the female kind. He requires a male touch in this whole situation." L bared his sparkling teeth in amusement. He had pinned the whole situation very well.

Gevanni stood aloof from the detective, hands on his hips now, quiet and concerned about the detective in front. This situation was becoming complicated as the day drew near. Even if L and Gevanni had the upper hand, they could not sit still, because their advisory was just as cunning and apt at creating new plans.

L picked the file on the table, and buried his nose in it. The smile playing about his lips was now slowly fading. Only three days remained till the moment of truth. Steve was already hot on Takada's heels, or was it that the young lady had some serious hots for him? Regardless, these few days had proved to be useful.

Takada had put enough trust in Steve to take him to her office to engage in her 'sex in office fantasies'. He had searched the office in her absence; not all of it, but whenever he got time, he got down to the usual business. However, so far, it was proving nothing to be a waste of his time.

Takada rarely left him alone, it was as if he would run away somewhere if she did. He was free to do as he pleased back at her apartment, but in the office his liberty was restricted.

Steve had turned her apartment inside out in search of the book, but he was not surprised. Since Takada was generous enough to leave him by himself at her apartment, there was little or no chance for the book to be tucked away safely under, or behind something.

He had taken Radha's assistance in this matter, to try and see if Raito really had given the note to Takada or not. It turned out that Misa really was brain washed of all the Death Note memories. She knew nothing of Shinagami's, or their eyes. Radha, just to put Steve's suspicions to rest searched the apartment again, but found nothing, as expected.

Steve thus came to one conclusion; Raito decided not to send the second book to Takada. If this was the case, then the book already was with the third player, since Misa's chapter in this little drama of his was closed.

If he sent it directly to this unknown man, he must have used his death god. This way he did not need anyone's help, nor assistance; but as the first book was with this player, the second book, or Misa's death note was bound to be in Takada's possession.

"When are you going to visit Minamo?" Gevanni asked in a soft voice, looking at L's serious face.

"I am thinking, tomorrow or day after tomorrow," L replied, feeling his heart clouded by the burden of dark emotions.

"Where are we exactly going Misa?" Radha asked the petite woman, sitting in a stiff manner next to the window.

Misa cocked her head, wheezing; she clearly was about to throw another cat-like fit. "Misa is going to settle things with that bitch!" She pounded the sofa seat mercilessly with her trembling fists of fury.

"Alright." Radha turned her face away to hide her smile. Steve and Radha had planned this game for the bitchy princesses. They will get both of the kitty-cats drunk, and zip out of the building with the spoils. If there were any…

Steve had a hunch, that Takada had the death note with some important files in the safe she kept in her office. The safe was locked with a small key, draped around Takada's neck sometimes. He was unsure where she left it in the office. But whenever she got home, her neck was empty of any chains.

It made sense, because she never left Steve or any one else alone in the office. Whenever she got out, she locked the door behind her. Steve's office molestations were only permitted to a few teases, and kisses. She never let him progress anywhere near unbuttoning her shirt, let alone full-fledged, heavy-breathing, sweaty sex, which she, of course thoroughly enjoyed in her own apartment.

Sometimes in throes of controlling his raging hard-on in the office, when it would get restrained just before his body propelled him any further, left him really really really mad.

And then Takada would politely say, "the guards are outside. It will not look nice if we made noises."

But Steve would force a smile, keeping words like, "screw the mother fuckers, I am so hard, I could kill somebody to fuck you now," from slipping off his tongue, and of course magically cooling down his private parts as well.

This relationship with Miss Takada was throwing him to the verge of sexual-deprivation, and from there to depression, and from there to his grave… This was just getting too hard…

After a short, but hard morning spent in the office, Takada was alone in the apartment with Steve again. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist. Steve was clutching her close to him with one arm, the other was busy with her right thigh. His face was buried between his favourite soft spot, from which men were meant to draw warmth, pleasure, and milk way back in those days because, as Steve would always argue, "it was programmed into their genes".

Takada's breasts were bouncing with Steve's upward thrusts, while she kept thrusting her back into him. He had been thrusting harder for the past fifteen minutes or so, sucking on her breasts with her straddled in his lap.

She had fisted some of his red hair, feeling herself getting pushed forward toward that point very quickly. And then it happened, suddenly and violently, leaving her breathless in its highly pleasurable wake. Raito really was no match for Steve's incubus like sexual prowess.

Steve fell back on the large sofa, taking the gigging Takada down with him. He had finished five minutes earlier, than his yesterday's thirty minute marathon thrusting. Well, the young man was getting anxious over all the restraints in her office, and her 'keeping the lion within him at bay' games.

This time, he had only unbuttoned her shirt, her bra was left pushed up above her pretty much red breasts. The only thing he had truly bothered to remove was her underwear. Steve was getting raw.

"I had just taken a shower," Takada complained, smiling seductively over Steve, who looked strangely spent today, after he had sadly had sex with himself several times in that damn news channel's toilet, when Takada denied him even a little finger play.

Steve, after looking mechanically at her erect nipples bared his teeth into a playful smile. He pulled himself up, landing his lips on Takada's in a lust-driven kiss. She curled her arms around him in a tight clasp, sensing that heat rising in her body again.

He gently slipped her fully opened office shirt off her, stroking her breasts with his hands. Steve gently stroked upwards, clenching her breasts under his hands, pushing himself inside Takada again.

Takada, lost in the sensation of Steve's teasing shallow thrusts, had little concentration left in her mind. She hardly noticed when Steve pressed her bra to feel the page. She actually had no memory of it for the time being, feeling him get deeper with each push.

Steve gently unclasped her bra, and slid it off her body, and when the orgasm crashed on her, he pushed it off the sofa, because he knew that she had the note inside of it now.

"T..that was just amazing," Takada managed breathlessly moments after, tracing her finger on Steve's lips, who nipped at it playfully.

After a few moments of silence, Steve gathered his strength to say something. "Aren't you supposed to meet Misa today?" he asked, feeling his quickened breath even out slowly.

"I have no idea what she wants, I am not even interested in that man anymore," Takada answered somewhat angrily at the indirect mention of Raito. The look of absolute lust had lessened a little, as if some of it had just flown off her face in fright.

Steve kept his mouth shut. He just watched Takada as she pulled herself up from his lap onto her shaky feet. The red mark left by the bra just above her breasts, looked like an intricate rosy design together with the bite and kiss marks on her breasts.

He zipped himself up, and buttoned his sweaty black shirt, looking at the girl limping around the room in search of her shirt and bra. These two rounds of sex had left her quite absentminded.

"Why don't you try this black one?" Steve suggested lustily with his eyes fully bent on Takada, pulling her lost-but-now-found panties up her legs. This gesture was enough to mildly heat Steve's youthful loins.

Takada turned around. "Yes, I suppose the other one will be sweaty." She walked bare-chested up to Steve, and took the lacy black bra from his hand.

Steve controlled his escalating lust, as another sex encounter, and not to mention those six masturbations in the office toilet, would probably leave him bed ridden.

"Is she a friend of yours?" he asked, looking away, 'out of sight, but just slightly out of mind', or so they say.

Takada made a strange face, looking at Steve from over her shoulder. "You cannot be serious?" she said, sounding half offended, and half amused, clasping her delicate black-bra from behind.

"…A rival in the art of passion then?" Steve smiled playfully, his eyes downcast, so it appeared that he was looking at his half untied shoes.

"…Maybe, maybe not."

He raised his head, pushing the bangs off his eyes, resting his lust filled gaze on Takada's full, soft breasts again, and their nipples standing under the velvety bra.

He whiffed her female scent lingering in the air around him. Takada slipped on a new shirt, staring into the green, ferocious glow in his eyes; it made him look so beddable.

"You are such a good kisser," she complimented, looking down at the red marks glowing on her breasts.

"I practice," Steve replied, softly laughing afterwards.

"Voice of experience?" Takada slipped her feet into her abandoned black heels

Steve winked in reply, getting to his feet to leave with Takada.

She quickly slicked her wet unkempt hair back. "I want to get out of there as soon as possible," she said, walking for the door.

Steve nodded in response, trailing behind her out of the apartment. "Wait…I think I forgot my dairy inside…Why don't you head for the car, I'll be downstairs in five minutes." Steve adjusted his features innocently, smiling warmly at Takada.

"Alright, just hurry okay. I really do not want to be late," Takada replied, turning around, and walking awkwardly for the elevator. Steve's stamina had drained the life out of her legs at least.

Steve hurried into the apartment, and grabbed the bra he had pushed off the sofa. "Please be here," he breathed, squeezing the delicate bra. "Here it is." He smiled happily, looking at the small piece hidden between the split open parts.

Quickly he produced a tissue paper from his pocket, and pulled the paper out of its hiding place. If he found the death note in her office, he will leave along with this piece, and will not have to go through with the hassle of putting it back in.

But Ryuzaki made it clear, that if he did not produce a death note, "his chances of getting his dairy were slimmer than him sporting a mini skirt out in the open".

"Bastard," Steve said nastily in the empty room, looking at the piece of paper intently.

But he knew, he had a gut feeling…

"She will have it in her office." His face took on a more resolute, mocking look.

"I really love women." He licked his stretched lips, smelling the scent of victory.


	11. Chapter 11: A walk toward yesterday

Comments: I have almost rewritten the entire chapter.

**Rating Warning**: Addition of sexual content, including attempted rape, and quite a bit of roughhousing. And a silly little Christianity related joke.

**Note**: I hope no one is getting confused at my usage of Luke, instead of Steve at certain places. If you all have not figured it out already, then Steve introduced himself as Luke to Takada. I use Steve everywhere else, so the reader knows that it is him I am talking about.

**Chapter Eleven**: A walk toward yesterday

A bit sweaty from the intimate exercises, Steve sat quietly in Takada's office. His heavy gaze was settled on the flower painting about five feet away from him. The black safe was just behind it.

Takada really was quite stupid. It was not that hard to find. But that was Steve's luck sneering at the girl. She had been fooled, too fooled to let any suspicions cloud her hard infatuation.

He lowered his eyes to the floor when Takada stepped into the office, carrying some files in her hands. She had left him alone for precisely two minutes. She walked here and there daintily on the two inch thick rug. Her long heels bit into the rug, leaving round hole-like marks.

Steve spread his thighs as wide apart as he possibly could, resting his elbows on his knees. He hid his tense face behind his knuckles. That damn cook was late, and all the excitement was frustrating him. And frustration always gave vent to a large spurt of sexual tension.

Steve leaned back on the sofa, wiping beads of sweat tracing fine lines down his face. He slipped his hand in his pocket, only to remember he had decided to quit smoke a few days ago.

"Fuck," he said under his breath, fumbling desperately in his pocket.

After a few seconds of thorough search, he finally gave up, covering his face with his hand. His left hand trembled in his pocket, and his legs were shaking with uneasiness. Takada was pleasantly typing away on her laptop. The morning sex had left her in such a good mood.

Steve's green eyes were peering at the clock from behind the curtain of red hair. It was 4 pm already. He had been waiting for that cook to pop up in the building, and Miss Radha's phone call, or even a little message for three whole hours. This entire wait was leaving him so jittery, and damn agitated that he could feel himself getting a little hard at the smell of Takada's sweat, and sound of her faint sighs.

"Are you alright Luke?" Takada's sweetly concerned voice sounded so damn alluring to Steve's red ears, and his hardening length.

"Nothing, my head is hurting a little, that is all." Steve pulled his hand away from the forehead, and threw a decent smile at Takada, who looked a little unconvinced.

"Are you sure?" she got to her feet.

"Please, please, please…stay away from me," Steve's shaken mind begged out loud, but Takada was slowly inching around the large office table, concerned about her sex-partner.

"N..no really I am fine." He waved his hand in confusion, and pain. His pants felt a little tighter now.

She walked up to him, stepping lightly on the rug. She looked like a scantily clad Eskimo taking slow steps on the soft snow, showing a lot of cleavage as bait for the bears.

Steve turned his head, pretending to look at the flower painting on the wall. His pants were now unbearably tight.

Takada took the empty space next to him. The heat from her body was raising his body temperature. She squeezed his shoulder, sending a delightfully small spark straight to his loins.

"Fuck that stupid cigarette pack," he thought, craning his neck back.

"You really overdid it," she said kindly, putting her palm on his forehead to feel his body temperature.

"There is no such thing as overdoing it." He lowered his head, venting a bit of sexual excitement masked as a joke.

"You are so naughty; I was talking about the interviews." She slapped playfully on his back.

Steve gave a soft chuckle, burying his face in his cupped hands. Takada gently stroked his reddened ears, lovingly tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, which were like wisps of blood against his pale skin.

She kept up her loving display of affections, playing with his red hair that had escaped in a flowing cascade over his long neck. Takada could never stop herself from admiring him. He had perfect red hair that bore great resemblance to blood. His eyes were like small green emeralds surrounded by the whitish pool.

All her admiring caresses were leaving Steve quite dazed, and horny. He really wished he had brought the cigarette pack with him. He could have kept his promise to his loving mother later.

"Mother I am so sorry," a thought ran through his brain, and he sighed turning his head and eyes at Takada, "do you have a cigarette?"

Takada sat silent for a moment. "No…but I have a chewing gum." She smiled, but Steve made such an awful face, as if she had just asked him to fuck a donkey.

He looked away sadly. This revelation had taken a bit of hardness out of his sex. Ah…The wonders of cigarette. Only if he had a little smoke, he would have been able to easily control his oral fixations, and smother his smoldering urges.

Steve was drowning under the mental struggles between two Steve's in his head now.

"Come on, just do her already. You will be out of here anyways," he thought, burying his hand in his hair.

"Don't be stupid," the other voice reasoned, "you can have the death note, so forget about it. I know you can do it."

"What is there to be stupid about?" he shot back, "you will get out of here, so why not fuck her at least twice…"

"That sounds so wrong," Steve's voice of reason made him feel a subtle tinge of small guilt. It was so damn small, that he hardly felt overly shameful.

"Oh come on…just look at her, she is asking for it now."

Steve's head turned quite automatically. Takada was sitting dangerously close to him, and his desire was getting out of control.

"See," the voice sneered triumphantly. "She wants it, you want it…Everybody wins."

Steve subtly nodded in agreement. His head felt quite small under the assault of all these voices. It felt as if they would burst out of his red head. The sexual tension, the anxiety, the excitement of the coming moments, and his current aching need were a bit too much for him to handle.

Takada inched closer, feeling his sharp stubble under her soft lips.

"You seem a little distant now," Takada purred close to his heated ears. Her voice, heavy with seduction, fired up his loins again.

She kissed him gently on the cheek, and he felt a warm current flow through his face. His face was as red as a burning fire, and his body felt just as warm and cozy.

"It's nothing like that," he managed with a throaty voice. His sex wanted to be surrounded by her heat now, but somehow the wait for freedom was making him so impatient.

"Do you want anything else then?" Takada asked seductively, cupping the side of his face. She brought her arms close together, deepening her cleavage.

Steve's lower lip shuddered, and he gulped the saliva down his narrowed dry throat. He still kept looking forward, giving brief sidelong glances at Takada's inviting breasts. He could still keep his cool, if the cook showed up, or if Radha called. Somehow his mind was just not made up for this today, but his unruly body was saying exactly the opposite.

Takada nuzzled Steve's cheek, making his eyes flutter with excitement. She moved a little, and before Steve's muddled mind could think of something to say, Takada had already moved over his lap, straddling his waist.

"I thought you never liked it in the office?" Steve's voice was surprisingly clear, and lust free.

"Well, there is no one in the office right now," Takada answered, removing her heels. She really was quite ready, and serious.

"How convenient," Steve gave a last intelligent thought, before his mind got scrambled and all that IQ just rushed out of his head. Takada's warm lips felt so good on his.

If it was not for the quick celebrations, Steve always preferred women to be submissive in bed. So missionary positions and variations of it, were his turn-on's. Any domination on the woman's part was a huge stride over his man compass. His ferocious Leo self never allowed for it.

He had to preserve his manliness, even with Takada grinding against him. Steve's length, which was pretty much rock hard now, was pocking Takada's inner thighs. He felt her smile from ear to ear against his lips.

Takada let out a startled, "eh," when Steve threw her on the sofa. She landed in a decent, elegant sprawl, and Steve was not far behind. He pressed himself over her, and grabbed hold of her thighs.

Takada drew a sharp breath; arching her back…But Steve clearly was getting a bit rough. He gave her legs a sharp tug, feeling her sex through his pants. Takada was being violently jerked on the sofa, and Steve did not care. His throaty, ragged breaths were echoing in the small room.

Thinking that it was the last consummation of his paramour desires, brought that animalistic, primal side out of him. His body had completely taken over his rational senses, and he kept roughly grinding into Takada, enjoying the powerful, intoxicating feeling of power and lust rush through his veins.

It had been months, since he last tasted this upsurge of vulgar excitement; the thrill, the spread of raw lust that came with the twist and turns of a helpless body under him. He opened his squeezed shut eyes, bending his green lusty gaze full on Takada's face that flickered with a touch of fear.

The lovely expression on her face was beautifully mingled with pure desire, that just showed a subtle but quick flicker of fear, when Steve's face trembled, and he bared his teeth on pure instinct.

Takada's breath caught in her throat, came out as short quick sighs; Steve looked a bit out of control to her. He bit into his lower lip, sending a small trail of blood down his chin. And then, quite instinctively ran his tongue over the fresh wound, but that thin stream of blood had already dried out on his chin.

Steve's fingers were painfully pressing on her ribs, as he carelessly fumbled at the buttons on her office shirt. Pressing himself down on her again, he took her lips roughly, biting, and tugging at them. When he backed away to breathe, he had already left them swollen and red.

Takada's mind was filled with strange thoughts. Steve was always so gentle with her. This mixture of pain and pleasure was leaving her body numb, and sore. But this sensation was new to her, and strangely her body, despite the farrago of foreign sensations, still painfully yearned for his touch.

She parted her lips, letting him slip his tongue in her warm mouth. His soft tongue twisted around hers, and the warm puffs of air from his nose felt like a spread of warm silk on her face.

Takada's sex was warm, and wet with need. It was so strange, how the mere look of his eyes hinting sex, and intimacy made her feel so weak and desperate for him. Her face was so warm, as if something hot was spreading through her like an insidious disease. The blood and warmth was rising like waves in her cheeks.

Steve's kisses were impatient, and rough, but her desire felt like the swell of sea. Wherever his kisses ran, they left ripples of pleasure to tingle her senses. But Steve was still so rough…ungentle and unkind today.

His hands that played like something silky and smooth on her skin, were harsh today. He hastily undid her bra, and roughly squeezed her breasts. The skin there ached painfully. Even his bloodied lips could not soothe the stinginess rising in her breasts. He took the erect nipple in his mouth, and nipped it just as painfully.

Takada's even breath was slowly becoming heavy, and ragged. Her chest rose and fell rapidly under his face. But the muscles of her wet sex clenching between her legs was now more of a mystery. As Steve's actions were smothering the pleasures that were slowly evanescing.

Steve moved his hand between her legs, and gave a few heavy strokes through her silky wet underwear. He pulled her underwear down, and drove into her with one full thrust. Takada clenched her teeth in pain; Steve was not even allowing her to adjust a little.

Her sex clenched around his hardness, as he moved in and out of her, so harshly and roughly that Takada felt real stabs of pain with a tinge of sweet pleasure, now just beginning to rise up to her lips as sharp sighs.

That old sensation of control sprang to life in his mind, and vigorous body. His eyes stared deep into the brown pools clasped tightly by many emotions on Takada's face. They looked far too similar to that woman's eyes…The woman he never tasted.

"_Can I help you?" the dancer turned around, putting her shawl down on the chair placed next to the dressing table. _

"_I was watching your dance," Steve said, looking hungrily at the woman he had lusted for weeks. _

_She smiled weakly, peering at the slightly open door behind Steve's back. How did he get in here? I had locked the door… _

"_You look beautiful today," Steve's voice sounded lustful, and his green eyes had that strange green ferocity in them. _

"_T…Thank you," she stammered, feeling quite uneasy at the sight of Steve's ethereal face twisted with a powerful emotion. _

_His gaze slid over to her nape, stopping at the white powder spread over her skin. She was hiding the blue mark left by her dead husband. _

"_No need to thank me." Steve gave an odd chuckle, returning his gaze on the woman's face, who looked quite scared now, standing alone with this sinfully handsome stranger in the dressing room. _

"_If you want to talk to me…then, I will be right outside," she began breathlessly, fumbling with small items on the table. _

"_You are so adorable… but I don't want to talk to you," Steve broke her off, talking one large slow step towards her._

_The woman pressed her back against the wall. "Get out of here," she said in small voice that had a great note of fear. _

_Steve said nothing in response, as he stretched his hand and lovingly touched her black hair. His touch made her skin crawl. That fear left her face, and anger took its place. Her fingers trembled with anger, when Steve boldly brushed her lips. She raised her hand high, and slapped him full across the face. _

"_Didn't you hear me…get out of here," she said breathing heavily, clenching her curled fingers. _

_Steve face was still turned to his right, hidden with red hair spread quite elegantly over half of his reddened cheek. He slowly raised his face, lifting his deep green eyes to meet hers. Her sharp slap had left a deep cut in his upper lip. Even she could see a tiny drop of blood slowly ooze out of it. It looked as if a small red smear was forming on his dry lips. A red smear that matched the silken pools flowing on both sides of his beautiful face. _

_Steve kept staring at her face. He did not say a word, nor did he move. He just stared at her… drinking in the near perfect contours of her face, and her glowing light olive skin. Her dark hair fell like undulating waves around her beautiful oval face. _

_He slowly leaned his head forward, whiffing the sent of her sweat, and the red dress she wore. Her hair smelled like peach, and honey. He let out a deep warm sigh that sent nothing but fear to her bones. _

_She pushed him back, and hastily inched around him. But Steve was not letting her go. He grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to the carpeted floor so quickly, that the woman's startled scream sounded almost forced. _

_Her back was squashed against the rough rug, and when she felt his hands move up her flowing red dress, she screamed with full force. Steve kept tugging at her dress, pressing his lips down on her jaw, as she twisted and turned under him frantically._

_Her hands and arms trembled under his heavy weight, as she tried in vein to push him off herself. He forcefully pulled her legs apart, ripping the large frill sewn on the sides. The large tatter ran all the way up to her waistline, and now it revealed a bit of her hidden skin. _

_Her whole body was shuddering with the fear of what was to come. Her throat burned with tears welling up to her eyes. She broke down into tears, crying hoarsely under him. Steve kissed her cheeks gently, picking up the small tears on his dry lips. _

_Suddenly his heavy weight was lifted off her. She saw him get dragged down to the floor by two unknown men. Someone had heard her… _

_But his green eyes never left hers. He looked crazed, almost in the grip of lustful obsession. The deep glare of his passionate eyes, induced carnal fear in her entire body. She too looked back into those eyes, but not with lust… It was a strange feeling bathed in fear, and something else, something unknown which she couldn't explain…something close to pity… _

"Luke?" Takada spoke to him in a small voice.

Steve's craned head, suddenly tipped forward. His hair had fallen over more than half his face. But Takada could still see his fluttering eyes peering from behind them. His head hung quite lifelessly on his shoulders.

Beads of sweat dripped from his face. They fell like a quick, passing, warm drizzle on Takada's bare breasts. She heaved a long sigh, still feeling the heavy burden of such a rough orgasm, and that red skin tingling under his sweat.

Steve hissed, fisting a part of Takada's shirt. He was still propped up on his shuddering elbows. The climax had hit him harder than Takada. He was out of breath, taking in lungful of air to control his breath. That feeling of amorous control was almost animalistic for him. It had shackled him for just a few moments, but the taste of it brought such pleasures he had totally forgotten.

He opened his eyes, seeing Takada's face through thick haze. But hadn't he vowed to move past these things? Had he not promised to smother his urges, when his mother cried just to see him for a few minutes behind bars?

"_Steve." The woman took Steve's face in her hands. _

_She was crying timidly, kissing his forehead, and combing his red hair with her trembling fingers. But Steve's head was hanging in shame. His eyes were downcast, and he sat slumped in his chair. He did not want to meet his mother's gaze…_

"_Steve…You are such a sweet boy. And I," his mother's voice trailed off, and she clutched Steve to herself, "and I miss you."_

_Steve could feel, and hear his mother's heart thumping in her chest. It was the same sound he had grown so used to over the years. It was so soothing, and heart melting. His own heart was beating together with hers. He could never tell her the truth…the truth about his butchered father, the truth about those men and women…He just wanted to lose himself in those mellow moments._

_After few minutes passed, he opened his eyes. _

"_It's alright mother…I am fine." He backed away, looking up at his sprite-like mother, who was just thirteen years older than himself. "And how did they let you in? You look nothing like a mother. Let alone a mother of a twenty three year old stud."_

"_Behave yourself Steve." She gave a quick, but painless slap on his cheek. "You have no idea how hard it was to have you…I was just thirteen and…"_

"_Yeah, yeah I know." He rubbed his cheek absentmindedly. "You fell in love with that sixteen year old excrement, got pregnant and had me… I am already dying of boredom here; are you trying to KILL me or something?" Steve sounded quite serious. _

"_Honestly." She quickly pulled up a chair, and landed on it in a huff. "You are such a spiteful child."_

"_Pfft." Steve frowned, clucking his tongue in distress._

_He crossed his legs, and looked at his mother who was smiling back at his less-than-happy face. His red hair and green eyes were a courtesy of his mother. Her hair were just as red as his, and her eyes were copied and pasted into Steve's sockets, by the guardian angels as she would put it, and by the fag-fairies as he would say. _

_Steve ended up with almost everything; her sharp nose, her contours, but thankfully his face was sharp and slim, and hers was oval and small, that made her look quite adorable. Sometimes Steve thanked those little invisible girly midgets his mother called angels, that he did not end up looking girly and cute. Now that was a scary thought. _

_She was quite tall, about close to five feet nine inches he imagined. Well, her head reached quite easily up to the tip of his ear, so he had to be right. And her skin was fair, and smooth. But she did not look a day older than twenty three, and all these perfections made her look quite nymph-like. _

"_Look at you," she said lovingly, brushing aside his hair to take a good look at his stone-cold-__sober__ face, and the sharp red hair dotting his chin, "you haven't shaved in two weeks."_

"_Of all the things to worry about." Steve shook his head a little. "You should be happy that they didn't kick my ass…please mother, don't start crying again," he pleaded, raising both his hands at the sight of a few tear drops shining on her eyes. _

_She sniffled, wiping her lovely eyes clean. "You are such a handsome boy…look what they have done to you." _

"_They have done nothing to me, but I swear it, your crying will eventually throw me off my rocker," he said with the wave of his hand. _

"_You have no shame Steve. You know I love you so much. You are my only boy." She leaned forward, wrapping her smooth arms around him in a tight clasp. _

"_And I love you more, but." He patted on her back. "Since you look about my age, if people saw us hugging like this … they will think we are sleeping together, Selene." He ended with boyish chuckles. _

_His mother pulled away with her lips pursed distastefully. She grabbed his ear, and twisted it roughly. "That Johnny boy at the fraternity is not teaching you anything nice, son."_

"_It's my ear for the love of women's g-string panties." Steve's head got dragged to the right._

"_For the what?" his mother asked in surprise, letting go of his ear. _

"_I said for the love of God…GODDD." Steve rubbed his ear. "And Johnny is much younger than me, so that brat cannot possibly teach me anything." _

"_So maybe that fraternity sister Maria then? Maybe her." She raised her eyebrows, looking at him suspiciously. _

_Steve relaxed on the chair "Oh no, she is learning a LOT of things from me." He pointed at himself smugly. _

"_What?" Selene gave him that confused motherly look, when mothers have no idea what their kids are hinting at. "You almost looked like someone with a loose-character just now. Keep this up son, and you will turn into the ten dollar whore Maria is," she finished with a concerned, motherly air around her. _

_Steve gave her forewarning a thought, but he could only imagine his head glued on Maria's body doing a slutty dance in a thong, and a lacy bra. Steve shuddered at the thought. That hip movement will never be involuntarily tried by him. Of course the warning came late…Steve was already as loose as those give-it-to-me-baby types._

"_Never mind her," Steve sighed out, "did you send that Ryuzaki fellow here yesterday?"_

_Selene bent her brow, putting on a thinking expression. "No…But…"_

"_Don't tell me; Alex sent him here?" Steve's nostrils flared. "You know, I HATE that guy."_

"_He is a nice guy. Don't be mean to him Steve. He is trying so hard to get you out." Selene brushed Steve's sleeve adoringly. _

"_Mother, I am not a dumb ass. He just wants to get inside your pants." _

"_Steve, watch your language." Selene pulled his collars out, removing some of the folds from his crinkled shirt. "He did so because Michael asked him to, and no, the man he sent was Alfred."_

"_That freak, whose sister was dangling on his arm? I have a gut feeling that there is something sexual going on between those two," Steve said with certainty, wearing that suspicious and accusatory look on his face. _

"_Or it could just be the gas." She fisted him playfully in his empty stomach. _

"_Please let those few juices of goodness remain inside the tender walls of my, empty stomach." Steve frowned, and his eyes grew bigger at the sight of that dreadful lunch box his mother had decided to bring with herself. "No, and I mean absolutely no. I am not taking a bite out of that stupid lunch box."_

"_You will eat it, after pangs of hunger," she teased, winking at his stoned face. _

"_You are going to leave me insulted, and vulnerable here. And I still have pride, and a bit of respect left, thank you very much." Steve slumped in his chair, looking at the dusty floor of the small meeting room. _

_It was so small, so dirty. The floor was caked with dust, and the grayish paint was chipping off the walls. The small exhaust fan was off, but rapidly spinning with the outside wind. The waft of air it let inside, was making small dust bunnies churn along the dirty walls. _

_The warm noon breeze carried a waft of different sounds inside, where only Steve and Selene sat quietly. A small steel table, and an empty chair were standing just next to them. His mother did not know the truth about her son, and Steve had decided to keep it that way. _

"_By the way, why don't you marry Michael? He takes great interest in you, and he gifted you that proposal-ring. He is decent, about as good looking as I am, and is a younger man too. And we both know that fair men with ponytails are your fetish," Steve suggested, waiting for some reply from his ever-loving lovely mother, who looked a little too busy with the lunch box. _

"_I don't know Steve. He is pretty high up in the brotherhood circle," she said, putting it in her lap. _

"_What is there to know about? Alex is an ugly, grouchy, perverted old faggot. With one foot in his already dug grave. And, he was staring at your," he stopped himself, and simply waved a finger at her breasts, "your things." _

"_Was he really? And no need to be shy Steve, I breastfed you, you know." Selene laughed heartily at his flushed face. _

"_Stop it, just stop it mother. Can you please stay on topic?" Steve slapped his hands on his hips. His face was burning red. _

"_Alright, I promise." She clasped her fingers together, smiling at her huffing and puffing son, who was quite sensitive about discussing such things with his mother. _

_He spread his legs wide, and brought his gaze on his mother. "Well?"_

"_Well, he is sweet, but isn't he seven years younger than me?"_

"_Good to know that you are still stuck in uncle Adam, and Auntie Eve's stone age," Steve took a swipe at Christianity casually. _

"_You can be so pushy Steve. Fine I will think about it. I just want you to be happy." She cupped his face in her hands._

_At that moment, the door creaked open and Ryuzaki walked slowly in with that great hunch, and bent head. He looked like a bored sailor who had lost his boat, and was wading with great difficulty through a muddy bog. _

"_I was talking about this freak, and his cunt protégé." Steve pointed at Gevanni who rushed into the room, looking savage like at the sound of the word 'cunt.'_

"_It's alright G. Steve is just a lovely spoiled mommy's boy." L smiled at Steve's lovely mother, who smiled politely back at him. _

"_Why you mother Fucking, son of a …" Steve got to his feet in a flash. _

"_Steve." His mother held his arm in an iron fist. "Sorry about that, he is just a little uptight right now." She stood up, brushing his hair again. _

"_No worries, I completely understand what this boy is going through. His fragile mind is broken by this terrible ordeal." L flashed that artificially pasted smile on his pasty face. _

"_My poor boy." Selene gave several impatient pecks on Steve's cheek, who was hissing F word insults at L. _

"_You must be Steve's mother. I see there is more than just a passing resemblance. And of course, you are just as lovely." L maintained his strange smile. Behind him, Gevanni looked murderous. _

_Selene gave a shy, but small laugh. "Everybody says that." _

"_Ma'am, visiting hours are over." A police officer walked inside the room. _

"_Oh… sorry." She turned her head at Steve, "I will come tomorrow okay. Just be a good boy and behave yourself. I will give this lunch box to the officer outside," she said happily, smothering him with a couple of dozen more kisses. _

"_Okay, okay I will," Steve assured his grieving young mother, and smiled at her when she waved him good bye. _

"_You have such a nice mother," L sighed out, when she left the room with the officer._

_Steve did not reply and took the chair again. He spread his thighs, resting his elbows on the table. _

"_You should be ashamed of yourself Steve." L sluggishly strode for the chair. "Why not do your mother a favour, and take up my offer."_

_Steve's eyes followed him, when he lowered himself on the chair just across the table. He looked like someone who suffered from back aches. _

"_By the way, nice lunch box, Stevey," L teased, instigating Steve to do something murderous. _

"_Shut the FUCK up." Steve clenched his jaws together, brining the glare of his eyes full on L's poker face. _

"_Look what I have here." L showed a little black book to Steve, whose head automatically leaned forward and moved from side to side with the book. _

"_My dairy?" Steve said, recognizing his most cherished possession, "where did you get this?" He lowered his eyes to L. _

"_From the police." L opened the dairy, and flicked through the pages, "let's read something shall we."_

_Steve fisted his fingers, but said nothing…_

"Luke?" Takada pulled herself close Steve, who sat a bit away from her. "Are you alright?"

Steve had zipped his pants quite quickly, and decided to sit a safe distance away from Takada. He was kneading his brow, and looked deep in thought.

She pushed his hair back, looking at his tense face. He had never looked this serious before.

"I am fine." He turned his head, showing that trademark Steve smile playing about his lips.

"Are you sure?" Takada brushed his sharp cheek bone.

"Yes, I am really fine." Steve's green eyes sparkled on his face.

"You had me worried," Takada sighed forth, relieved.

Steve raised himself to his feet, and stretched his back. "I think I should go outside and check." He smiled at Takada from over his shoulder.

Takada got to her feet as well, looking at him with same admiration in her eyes. She stepped close to him, and kissed him deeply on his lips. He returned the kiss just as gently, and passionately.

"You were a little rough today," she breathed, brushing her lips on his.

"But you still enjoyed it, right?" he answered, licking her lips as a quick retort.

"I am, not sure," she whispered on his lips again.

Takada did not want him to go just yet. She still wanted to feel him just a little more. It was a strange feeling, an odd vibe she was getting from him. This feeling was tugging at her heart. It was as if, these were her last moments of passion.

Funnily, Steve heart was already made. Those past months in jail, and few days working for L, he had managed to discipline himself a lot. He had learned to control himself greatly, compared to what he was when he landed himself behind bars.

Life was giving him a second chance, a full view into his previous life, when his mother shielded him from everything, and he felt so very helpless. Clinging to her in his childhood days. He really was past that now, and had walked a great deal of distance away from his unpleasant memories.

He could still see himself, his green eyes aghast, staring into the ghastly tomorrow. But that was past now, and he had really worked hard to get himself where he was today. Sex, guile, brilliance, and even cold-blooded murder of his father and others. He used them all to get to the top, and he will not, could not let this woman become the reason of his fall.

The time had come to cut himself from this woman, and his past; for the sake of his future, for the sake of his mother…

Steve kissed her neck slowly, keeping his cool, listening to her deep sighs and the feeling of weakness rising in her body like always. He gave her a shallow bite, and then sucked the skin playfully, leaving a nice reminder of their time for days to come. Most women were too easy that way.

He turned his head at the loud knocks.

"Ma'am, sorry I am late," the voice on the other side said.

"Stupid man," Takada said distastefully, still holding onto Steve.

"I think I should check." Steve uncurled his arms, taking a quick glance at the red hickey burning on her nape behind the spread of her dark hair.

"Tell him to wait in the kitchen. And you can come back in here," Takada suggested seductively, looking at the return of a sexy smile from Steve.

"You are a little horny today, aren't you?" He turned the door knob, leaning on the door.

"You are the one to talk." She flicked her hair, looking quite impatient now.

"Misa will be here any minute now, so, we can do it in your apartment, okay?" He opened the door, winking at her before he fully closed the door. Leaving Takada frowning in the empty room.

The meeting between Takada and Misa had been arranged at Takada'a office. Steve recommended this spot for his own convenience. This way he will not waste any time and search her office thoroughly, while Takada will lay comatose with the bubbly princess in the small dining room.

If it was not for the hanky-panky stuff in her apartment, Steve would have given his body a little rest. He thought he will be able to accomplish somewhat, because all the staff was on holiday, it was Sunday after all. But it would seem that Steve's boundless sexuality had rubbed off on Takada, and she was not satisfied if they didn't 'do' it at least thrice. This relationship was giving him a huge back-ache.

Steve had asked Radha to bring the most potent drug she could find from her place. Radha had agreed to all of this, and was ready to leave the death note, and its piece with Gevanni and leave the country.

As soon as the car stopped, Misa ran for the building frantically. Radha ran after her in her wake, and made her way inside. Without even thinking, Misa charged for the man with his back turned to the door.

She raised her fist and pounded it into the man's back. "Where is she…WHERE IS SHE…MISA WILL KILL HER," she screamed, repeatedly hitting the man to take out a little bit of anger raging inside her.

Radha sprang forward, and grabbed Misa by the wrists. "Misa, this is not polite."

"Let Misa go." Misa struggled in Radha'a tight hold. She looked like a raging bull out of control.

"Your friend is very energetic," the man said softly, smiling with his green eyes, looking down at Misa who looked frozen and entranced.

"…" Misa started at the handsome man, eyes wide aghast with roses whipped on her soft cheeks.

"You must be Radha, I apologize for not introducing myself, my name is Luke." Steve held out his hand, smiling like a true gentleman.

Radha rolled her eyes, returning Steve's cool gaze with just a little frown creasing her face. "Nice to meet you Luke." She shook his hand; her voice calm and level.

"Your Boss is a SLUT!" Misa broke free, looking up at the much taller man. "She sleeps around with Misa's boyfriend, and now she must be drooling over you." Misa extended her hand, pointing at the amused Steve, who looked somewhat calm, barely managing to hide the glee flickering across his face.

"I am sure you can discuss this later, Miss Misa, but I think you were called here…"

"Misa was called here for this very reason. That whore better have a good explanation." Misa gave Steve the hard, defensive-girlfriend stare, but Steve returned her gaze in a peculiar manner; stealing a mentally lost look at Radha who was already getting sick of Misa's perpetual girly tantrums.

"Was this the motive behind the…a…meeting?" Steve asked Radha, appearing genuinely confused. He had no idea, that Misa and Takada will go this far just to make it clear to each other that they had their own private, sex-lives.

"Apparently." Radha folded her arms, squinting at Misa, and pursing her lips.

"Very interesting and genuinely informative, I bet," Steve said, looking sideways, and pretending to be lost in thought. "Anyways." He returned his gaze on Radha, dropping it further down to clearly look at the girl who was no taller than his leg. "This way please." Steve gestured Misa, whose mood had abnormally switched. She hopped playfully to the room at the corner, swinging the bag in her left hand.

Steve kept staring at Misa, examining her odd behaviour. His eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the thick black curtains, leaving a trail of amusing and disturbing theories in Steve's mind.

"You should have told me," Steve said, smoothly slicking his hair back.

"That would have spoiled all the fun, and besides Takada cancelled the talk show with Misa herself, settling just for this fight for honour," Radha said, unfolding her arms, and peering at the back of the large room.

"Fun? Tch…Whatever, I am in no mood to argue with you," Steve said coldly, playing with his bangs that refused to stay tucked behind his ears.

"Don't get mad, I did not do this on purpose. I came to know of the change in plans inside the car. So there was no time to inform you. You have no idea how hard it is to baby sit this girl." Radha met Steve's eyes that looked bright and innocent.

The walked further into the empty building. Usually it was so full of people, but now it looked like an ugly squat. They stopped next to a tall pillar that faced the double entrance door.

"Did you bring what I asked you to?" Steve asked, forcing his mellow voice to sound like a cooing whisper.

"I have, but what about the chef?" Radha asked, inching a little closer to the red haired man.

"You and I will sit in the dining room." He touched his lips, pinching them between his fingers, "When I will call the chef, you can leave for the kitchen. Pour the drug into the red wine bottle," he continued, looking down at Radha's soft hands, which were clenched into fists, "when he is done serving, I will ask him to leave."

Radha breathed heavily. Her warm breath slightly disturbed his long sickly red hair. They stood shoulder to shoulder; slim, tall, and beautiful, gazing at the empty corridor in front, like two well-crafted statues from the past.

"I am scared," Radha whispered, out of breath for the coming moments.

"Don't worry, stay clam, and we will be out of here before you know it," Steve replied, his voice trailing off into a gentle whisper, carried away with the warm wind.

Takada drew near the dining room, walking softly, as if floating on the marble floor. Her face tightened at the sight of Steve, standing dangerously close for comfort next to a young, beautiful girl.

"Luke," she called out, breaking Steve and Radha's soft whispering.

Steve walked for her, with Radha trailing behind. "Done with your office work?" he asked the woman who was staring intently at the girl standing before her.

"Yes." Her gaze traveled back to Steve. There was an element of scorn, and confusion on her face.

"I am Misa's assistant. Pleased to meet you." Radha gracefully bowed before Takada.

"Oh, so you are her assistant?" Takada asked. Her voice was cold, and full of mockery.

"Temporary assistant actually. I am filling in for another woman," Radha replied smoothly, "My job will be over in a few days."

"I see." Takada's eyes traveled down Radha's face, to the silky brown hair thrown on her shoulders in light curls.

"Misa is waiting inside," Steve said, trying to break the tension building between the two women.

Takada nodded, evening out her breath. Her heart now returning to its steady, anger free pace; thumping softly and rhythmically inside her chest.

She stepped in lightly, arching an eye brow at Misa sitting calmly on the chair. "Hello Misa," Takada greeted gently, keeping the harshness away from creeping its way into her voice.

She perched on the chair across Misa, who was quietly smiling for a change.

"I see you have a boy friend?" Misa spoke first, catching an uneasy look on Takada's face.

"He is my assistant," Takada replied, repeatedly schooling her contorting face.

Misa threw a squeaky laugh, thumping her fist on the table. "Misa knows you are sleeping with this man as well." She leaned her head forward, forcing Takada to meet her lens free brown eyes.

"Whatever do you mean Misa?" Takada cracked a confident grin; even if it was slightly wry and unpleasant.

Steve and Radha looked on, thoroughly amused by this cat-fight. Radha kept fiddling with the bottle's cap in her pocket, while a maliciously seductive leer never left Steve's face. His eyes sparkled, and so did his exposed teeth.

"Don't play dumb. Misa knows everything. You just cannot keep your legs closed." Misa giggled behind her hands, acting like cute girl who was completely unaware of the meaning behind her insult.

"Please, watch your language in front of my staff," Takada warned the brazen model, who was staring threateningly back from her perch.

"Miss should I bring the dinner?" A heavy looking chef stood next to the closed kitchen door.

Takada nodded at him. Radha followed the chef into the kitchen; this was possibly the only chance they were going to get.

When the chef reached for the wine Radha interrupted, "better leave the wine for last. Misa gets all cranky when she is drunk," Radha said, looking at the delicious dishes in silver plates.

The chef did not answer, and wearily dragged the trolley into the dining room leaving Radha alone with the tasty red wine.

Seeing the wine missing from the tray, Steve walked up to Takada, burying his nose into her hair to whisper in her ear. "I will send the chef home after he is done serving." His voice had a strong note of seduction, enough to evoke a clear picture in Takada's mind.

Takada remained quiet, relishing the taste of looming pleasure crawling on her smooth skin. Thinking about something as unpleasant as betrayal by Steve never crossed her mind; not even once.

Radha exchanged a look of satisfaction with Steve, as she lightly stepped into the dining room. She obediently stood behind Misa, looking at Steve hiding the insufferable lust for pleasure behind his bloody bangs; the pleasure of freedom.

Misa and Takada remind silent, but never took their eyes off each other. They looked very similar to male bulls about to go at each other, waiting to lock their horns to battle it out for the ultimate prize; who will mate with the buffalo? Of course, this was the other way around in their case.

The room was quiet, almost menacingly quiet, save for the bubbling sound of the wine being poured into the glasses, and the soft breaths of Steve behind his coat's long collar. He was staring at the painting hanging on the wall behind Radha, finding himself lost in the scenery frozen in time.

"You can take your leave now," Steve said, almost lost in his own thoughts.

The chef bowed down courteously, and left through the main door, leaving the occupants fight their own battles in their self-created arena.

Misa and Takada's eyes never left each others, as they took small sips from their wine glasses, throwing fake smiles and forced chuckles.

As minutes passed, their chuckles grew a little unpleasant, and out of control, progressing to roars of laughter. The two women chuckled with their faces flat on the table, pulling the table cloth in their hands.

"Looks like your magic potion is working," Steve said to Radha, not taking his eyes off the pleasant scene before him.

After another abnormal chuckle or two, complete silence fell over the room. Takada lay completely still with her face flat against the table, and her arms hanging lifelessly on her sides.

Steve lifted Takada's frail wrist. "She is out cold. Good work little girl," he said lifting Takada's head back, and reaching for her pendent. "Just think of what can be done with drunk women," he continued speaking casually to the tight-lipped Radha, who was moving Misa's head to the side to stop the gargling sound of her spit, "not this lifeless of course, but ah…I am getting all warmed up now." He gave a resounding chuckle.

"Well?" Radha asked hastily, contorting her features in disgust, some of Misa's spit was now on her hand. "Is it there or not?" She wiped her hand on her coat, flapping it afterwards almost instinctively. "GROSS…Now my hand is covered in Misa's spit."

"Patience, little girl," Steve said in an artificial accent, pulling the thin chain over Takada's head. He brought it close to his face, opening the tiny lid of the round gold like object, dangling on the thin, glittering chain.

"Your information better be good about this." Radha returned Steve's childishly annoyed gaze angrily.

Radha impatiently tapped her foot on the ground, looking at Steve pull something very small out of the round clock like jewelry. "This should do it." He slipped the chain over Takada's head. The chain slipped along her long neck, stopping at the depression between her collar bones. The gold pendent looked like shimmering elixir, swimming, and welling up from inside Takada's bared neck.

"Are you done yet?" Radha asked, looking at Steve's closed hand.

"What do you mean, of course," Steve reacted, feeling offended.

Both of them left the two unconscious girls in the dining room, striking hastily toward Takada's office.

"Are you sure this will work?" Radha asked, looking at Steve slip the tiny key into the safe's keyhole.

"Can you for once be a little more optimistic?" Steve made a terrible face, turning the key clockwise to open the small, but sturdy looking metal safe.

Radha rolled her eyes, looking at the clock hanging overhead.

Steve opened the tiny safe, smiling devilishly at the black book which greeted them, as if inviting them with open arms. Radha picked up the book gently, feeling no fear of Shinagami, keeping her cold hands safely warm behind the thick gloves that touched the death filled book.

She opened it, running her eyes over the list of criminals. This was the death note, there was no mistaking it. She searched in the safe, but found nothing other than some files, and a couple of gold earrings.

"I guess our job is done," Steve said to Radha, his eyes danced of welling joy. He knew that after leaving this book with Gevanni, he will taste and breathe in the free air once more.

"Tomorrow? But what about the testing? Isn't the thirteenth day a bit too close?" Gevanni asked, faithfully standing quiet to wait for L's final thought.

"I know, but I just have to see her," L replied, rubbing his eyes, which for once felt very tired under his fingers.

Gevanni breathed in the warm air of the room, filled with the aroma of sweet treats. "You will be alright all by yourself, or should I come along?" he asked, breathing heavily, looking a little more concerned than usual.

"No, it's alright. You will have to cover things behind me," L said, whiffing in the strong smell emanating as warm puffs from the heated chocolate syrup.

"Kuze shrine is quite far from here. I do not think you will be able to make it back before the last day." Gevanni kneeled to the used plates, piling them on top of each other.

"I will be back on the last date. You should send the parcel by then," L said heavily, drinking the warm milk, swimming with thick chocolate on top.

"L-san?" Matsuda knocked on the door.

"Come in Matsuda-San," Gevanni said, turning around to take a look at the perpetual moron of the group.

"What is it Matsuda-San?" L asked, looking at Matsuda through warm curls of hot air rising above the white cup.

"I-I just came here to give this file to you." Matsuda extended his hand, handing the file over to Gevanni.

"Anything else?" L asked, annoyed of the man already.

"N-no." Matsuda bowed before L, and left the room in silence.

"This man is a complete moron," L rumbled, opening the file to check the analysis of the team about Kira's case.

Takada kneeled down, holding the end of the safe tightly. The open pendent fell from her hand. "H-he took the death note," her voice wavered in disbelief, and the tears swimming in her eyes trailed down her trembling face.

"What will Raito do if he found out?" she thought, crying softly, brushing her fingers over the red mark on her nape. He really was gone.


	12. Chapter 12: kuze Shrine

**Note**: I have added two scenes in the start; the rest of the chapter is same.

Most of the locations and the name of the lake are purely fictional. Please, do not take them seriously, as they are not meant to be taken seriously.

**Chapter Twelve**: Kuze Shrine

"You know, I just realized something?" Steve said suddenly, standing under the tattered shed of a dilapidated church.

Radha looked at him in silence, and Gevanni wore his bored expression, checking the page and the death note Steve had singlehandedly whisked out of the woman's den.

"Takada is more than six inches shorter than me," he said in disbelief, and pulled an equally serious face to stress on the matter.

"Wow Steve, I never noticed it even if you are, like, almost 6 feet tall, and she wore those bitchy five inched heels every day," Radha said sarcastically, getting to her feet.

"Don't kill my good mood." Steve squinted on her, turning his head away to stare at the night sky.

The sliver of moon slid in and out of view behind the clouds that dragged themselves past it. There was a nip in the air, and the way Steve's usually pale face was getting flushed, the chilliness was just beginning to intensify.

"How long is it going to take?" Steve complained, slumping on a wrecked pew. "God, my back hurts," he hissed, bending a little to play with his shoe laces.

Radha gave an ejaculatory laugh that drew Steve's full attention. He raised his head, and looked up at her. "Don't you dare say a word." He shook his finger at her.

"Come on; are you getting nervous or something? If this turns out to be fake, you can go and fuck her again. Be optimistic Steve." Radha leaned against the rough wall, looking at the expression on Steve's face get contorted with anger.

"This is NOT funny." Steve scrambled to his feet. "You have no idea what you are talking about."

Gevanni rolled his eyes, flicking though the pages. These two were getting on his nerves.

"But at least you have some place to shoot your load in," Radha said, mimicking his smooth accent, and the odd gesture he made that day in the restaurant.

"Yeah, and I am still right," the reply came with a raised voice.

Radha mumbled an insult, and looked away.

"See, that's why I always tell you to keep your mouth shut. You almost look demure that way," Steve said, wafting a quick kiss at her which was met with another insult.

"Don't jerk off in celebration just yet." Radha pushed herself off the wall, and took few steps to come face to face with Steve, who was a few inches taller than her. "It could be fake…"

"It is not fake," Gevanni broke into their timid bickering.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked in a serious voice. The look on his face suddenly got serious.

Radha stood silently, having forgotten that she was supposed to win this sex argument with Steve, that 'he was nothing more than a vulgar, male-slut'.

"Most of the names of the criminals that had died under mysterious circumstances are here in this book." He clapped on the death note.

Steve looked in shock. This truth left him in disbelief. He was finally out…It really was over.

"Finally," Steve sighed out, running his hand through his hair. His body trembled with the burden of this lucky escape. And his mind was now coming under the onslaught of what ifs. He just felt lucky, extremely lucky at this cunning slip from under the grip of fate.

"Amazing. I am just glad this is over." Radha smiled from ear to ear.

"Here are the remaining pages, as promised." Gevanni handed the pages to Steve, who took it hastily from his hand. "You have been receiving the money during the thirteen days, and the remaining will be transferred tomorrow," Gevanni explained, getting no particular reaction from Steve, who was lost in his own thoughts, counting the pages over and over again.

"Of course Steve will get more of the final share...because…"

"Teehee. Touché at your mocking words," Steve said to Radha, whose anger was flashing in her eyes. His face lit up, as he pushed the pages in his dairy.

"Because, his job was much more dangerous," Gevanni said slowly, watching Steve burn the dairy with his lighter.

"Burning the evidence?" Radha asked, huffing angrily. This uneven final payment was driving her mad.

"What evidence?" Steve said, looking down at the charred remains of his small dairy. "You just think I am diabolical, but in fact, I am just a passionate, loving, kind man."

Gevanni had an urge to give a clout across Steve's face, but he simply satisfied himself with another childish roll of his eyes. Those few hours he had spent in the visiting room with Steve were nightmarish. If that ever happened again, then L and Steve would be the death of him.

Actually he was more glad than Steve that this was the real book, because he did not even want to think otherwise… The thought was frightening, and it was already making him sweat in this cool air.

"Yeah if that is true, then you could be gay too." Radha nodded quickly, watching a large frown appear on Steve's line free face.

"Here are the tickets. Just leave, please," Gevanni said in a pleading voice throwing two tickets on a broken slab.

"You know, I never liked you." Steve picked up the ticket, and slipped it in his pocket.

"The feeling is mutual." Gevanni said calmly, closing the box that contained the death note, and the piece, along with some other important files.

"And tell your fat boss to kiss your ass, because I wouldn't want him to kiss mine," Steve retorted on Gevanni's silly little insult.

Gevanni's lips remained closed, because L held him back. He could hear L's slow, and painfully bored voice reasoning with him, "G-san, let it go… just let it all go."

He couldn't have been more insulted… He simply watched Steve and Radha disappear into the dead of the night. He never could have his last laugh.

L looked intently at the scenery, passing quickly before his eyes through the stainless window of the bus. It was like looking at a colourful movie being played before him. He kept sweeping his eyes around the fast moving trees, which were being quickly left behind, as if they were running away from him, hiding behind the thin morning mist settled in the area.

The trees lined the corner of the road, which snaked through the forest, like a thick grey serpent, cutting through the greenery to make its way to its destination; the heart of the valley.

It took Gevanni three days to arrange this trip for L. He had to make sure that the others, especially Raito was busy with his work, so that he would be able to slip out of the building, and return alive.

All that hard work had pushed his young assistant to the verge of tears, or maybe it was just Steve's insult that had somehow made it to L on a little piece of paper.

"_Kiss his ass, you fat faggot._

_Yours truly,_

_Steve."_

"_He told you to kiss my ass. I am going to…" Gevanni's gritted his teeth, curling his fingers into a fist. _

"_You are not going to let me, are you?" L said, slowly pacing around the room to grab his little things for packing. _

"_What?" Gevanni asked, left dumbstruck by L's casual take on the whole, serious matter. _

"_He can say whatever he wants. I am not an implied homosexual character, and you," he said, pointing at Gevanni, holding a perfectly clean white t-shirt in the other hand, "are not going to get romantic with me in a homosexual way."_

_Gevanni's pressed lips suddenly looked like a lopsided smile, "does he take anything seriously?"_

"_Agreed?" A nice smile ran across his lips, but it sagged the next second. "Stop being so sensitive." He zipped the small bag, before cramming another mobile, and a small PDA into it. _

_Gevanni choked on his next reply. It was pointless to argue with him. He would just settle with paying Steve one million, and forty five thousand dollars, instead of fifty. He deviously smiled at his measly devious revenge. _

The Kuze Shrine was really the heart of this beautiful valley. It was nestled between the mountains that obscured its presence. People from all over Japan came here, just to take a look at the lake that ran through this area. It was believed, that on the night of the full moon, mermaids danced on its surface, granting immortality to those who desired it.

Leaning his head forward, L cast his gaze downwards upon the lake, and the layer of mist sleeping over its calm surface. He wiped the fog on the window, peering at the small huts, and the Shrine close to it.

If the valley of Shangri-La was destined to remain untouched, then this place demanded no less, as it was the heaven of this land. The stories about the mermaids must have been true, as the mermaids themselves represented beauty, and timelessness. The village close to the lake must have felt blessed, and overjoyed… as if it was an entity itself.

The lake looked clam, serene, as if sleeping within the quiet arms of the mountains, which were protecting it from the morbidity of the world. Its crystal clear surface looked like a mirror, shimmering at the sunrays that danced on its small curls.

Its calmness was mystifying, as the light winds sweeping through the lands did not hold it sway, but only touched it ever so slightly, letting their kisses caress its gentle, smooth surface; just like a lover whose kisses are ghostly, but passionate.

L sank back into his chair, thinking, that within few hours he will meet Minamo. What will he say to her? He ran his hands through his hairs, letting a film of uneasiness cover his face.

His eyes were downcast, and his face obscured behind the thin, black bangs. L held his gaze, looking at the small letter which Watari had left him. It was open in his lap; crinkled and old. Watari's small handwriting stood out of that squashed and now, quite untidy looking piece of paper.

_Dear L,_

_I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I have located the whereabouts of the person you had asked me to. She is living in Kuze shrine. _

_I want you to take some time off to meet her. I am sure it will ease your burdens, and make you happy. _

_I sincerely wish for your wellbeing, and happiness for years to come. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Watari_

He turned it around several times, crackling it; his long fingers pressing the screaming paper underneath them. His ears did not hear the sounds, as he was lost in thoughts about his past. They had just suddenly engulfed him, and not wanting to let go, he purposely submitted himself before the ocean of his memories.

L closed his eyes, trying a meditating technique which Watari had taught him back at Wammy's. His lashes fluttered, and the beginnings of a relaxed smile flickered at the corners of his lips.

He imagined that he was standing at the shore, watching the waves lunge at the rocks, and then crash upon them with a ferocious roar. The wind blew the rain droplets in his face, pushing the wet bangs back with force.

His face felt lashed and abused under the wind's assault. The trickles ran down the region, where his neck and jaw ran together. Finally, the sea clamed down, and the wind withdrew its grasp from upon it; leaving it calm and quiet once again.

The rain droplet rolling down his neck, sent shivers of chilliness through his body, and the wind blowing at his face, was strong and fierce. His eyes fluttered open…and what greeted him was a toothy grin of the man sitting next to him.

"I just decided to open the window," he said in a squeaky voice, "if that is okay with you?"

L wiped his wet face on his sleeve, and gave the freaky occupant a half-hearted nod. The cool wind fanning his trickled face, felt like sharp stabs of thousand needles. L cast a death glare his way, cursing the man in his head… This courtesy was a bit expensive.

"Isn't it a little cold?" L droned a little slowly, shoving the letter quickly in his pocket.

The man tuned his gaze and his head toward L; directing a look which was between a challenge and a threat. "It is a little warm inside," he forced an awkward reply.

"It feels as if the wind is stabbing my face," L said calmly, wiping away the evidence of rain from his slightly flushed face, "and the rain is not all pleasant as well."

L paused, squinting his eyes hatefully behind the glistering curtain of his black bangs. "I am assuming that it is below 5 degree Celsius. If you are that interested in letting the wind blow up your clothes." L closed the window. "Then I suggest you sit at top of the bus…"

With that harsh reply, L turned his head away from the man, whose fair complexion had literally disappeared behind the red on his face. He was mortified, enraged at the young man's brazen remarks, and most certainly that insulting gesture.

L got himself busy again, looking at the narrowing distance between the speeding bus, and the shrine. Closing his eyes, he began to prepare his replies beforehand.

"How are you?", "It has been a long time…" "I was a little busy with this Kira case you see." "You look beautiful…and…a…" this was possibly the millionth time that his thoughts came to an abrupt stop at these words.

Will she be able to forgive him that he never bothered looking for her and …?

"But I was so young then, and you never came looking for me either," he reflected upon this silent thought, opening his eyes that already looked as weary as that of an old, worn-out man.

"I…I looked every where for you," the words pressed heavy on his heart. It fluttered like a wounded bird under their unjust burden.

"You never left me; not once. I always thought you to be by my side, that is what kept me going, that is why I never gave up on you." L looked skyward at the sun shining through the clouds. Perhaps it was smiling, and agreeing with him secretly.

"I love you Minamo, and…"

"Sir, we are here," a gentle voice broke into his most-secret, one-sided conversation.

L looked around the empty bus, appearing a tad confused, as if he had just leaped-forged through time. He nodded politely, grabbing his small bag from under the chair.

When he stepped out of the bus, a pleasantly sweet aroma of cherry blossoms greeted him. Their lovely scent imbued in the lightly-moving wind, was the most pleasant thing his senses had ever tasted.

L moved his eyes around, slightly surprised at the sight of that annoying man, grudgingly mining inside his nose. He pulled his finger out angrily; perhaps frustrated that it was unable to bring him some non-existent treasure.

L scratched at the tip of his wrinkled nose. He inhaled sharply, feeling the breath cool the dry-flesh in his throat. Suddenly, he felt a menacing presence. It was a strange feeling, as if something odd, ominous had its eyes settled upon him.

"It is lovely here, isn't it?" a young voice said.

L turned his gaze slightly, looking at a very good-looking man who did not appear older than him, donning a more sophisticated look. He scanned the other man's face, who was looking back at him, appearing rather overly-pleasant.

"Yes," L gave an extremely short reply and started walking forward. He really wanted to ignore this stranger.

"I have heard it was build about three centuries ago," the man said smoothly, catching up to L's slower-than-snail speed; L did not entirely look like a man trying to get away.

"Yes," L droned unpleasantly, listening to the bus rumble on top of the rough road.

"This place has a profound history." The man with silky, shoulder length hair awed, looking positively smitten of something. His behaviour jumped down to the extreme level of odd by the second.

L heavily sighed, and stopped his walk. "I appreciate the history lesson, but there isn't anything you will know that will not be in my knowledge already. Please forgive me, but I would very much like to be left alone," L finished quickly, resuming his walk, and leaving the almost-surprised man behind him.

L felt the tremors of his heavy footsteps on the small wooden bridge built over the clear little Brooke. It shook, and creaked under him. Its sharp sounds made the fish jump up into the air.

The water-lilies quivered in the pond; delighted at the touch of golden-fish swimming through their long stems. The place was an emblem of beauty. Where ever he looked, only a pleasantly-beautiful scenery left him in tender calmness.

His eyes were sated, ridden of their unseen burdens, as they glowed under his long lashes, fluttering over them like a velvety brush. What he needed now were some words to fill the void of nineteen long years.

But his words would not calm the beast of loneliness in Minamo's wrecked heart. He had made her wait long; perhaps too long, that his apology will not be the remedy to soothe the savage beast.

He stood outside the large hut-like building under the sky, which felt lower than before. _Maybe it wanted to crush him under it? Was it getting angry at him? Envious of his new found happiness perhaps?_

L looked over his shoulder; his eyes following the strange ominous aura left behind the fair, and pleasant looking stranger. His shadow trembled over the rough trail as he disappeared behind the trees.

L held his neck, and his gaze, trying to look behind the thick curtain of swaying leaves. He looked forward, shrugging off the hint of feeling whose burden had left him. There was something about that man that smelled of fear.

L left those thoughts behind him, and opened the sliding door. As he entered, all eyes were on him. He looked around, finding the darkness and the lack of any male presence quite odd. The room was filled with the female kind; young and adolescent, tall and small.

For a second he felt he was thrown in a wrong place. He had read that men were not allowed in the shrine, but the evidence in front of his eyes was still discomforting.

"You are Ryuzaki?" a woman who looked in her mid-thirties spoke to him from the middle of all-female circle. Her voice had a clear note of authority. L had no doubts; she was the high-priestess of the shrine.

"Yes, and I am sure you know the reason behind my arrival." L got to the point, not wasting any of his valuable time, beating about some bushes.

The crowd whispered, and some little girls heartily giggled; their voices rose in the air, shattering the loud-silence of the room.

"I see," her strong voice forcefully drowned all the sound, overwhelming it completely. The room was quite again, except the shallow whistle-like breaths exhaled by a youngling. She was wiping her leaking nose with her sleeves. It seemed that the cold outside had made her ill.

"Shugurie will take you to her." The woman gestured, and a lovely girl around her late twenties obediently stood up, throwing her long, beautiful black hair behind her shoulders.

She walked lightly, as if she was trying to hold her balance in slippery mud, and would fall face down if she hastened her steps. L found it most amusing. He kept looking at her in wild amusement, or as wild as his contours would suggest, because to the untrained eye, he looked like a man watching grey paint dry on the wall.

"This way sir." She bowed unnecessarily before him, hiding the blush glowing on her flawless skin.

L followed in her wake. She walked slowly in front of him, swaying her hips oddly, and invitingly. Her nice, homely gestures were pleasant in all the wrong ways.

She stopped in front of another door, and smiled, looking at L to perhaps say something out of the ordinary to her, like "thank you for swaying your nice behind in my face, while leading me through a rat maze…no quite literally most-sweetest of Misses."

Instead L reached out for the door, inhaling sharply. He turned for the absent-minded girl, who was looking with full curiosity and attention at his every move. Seeing his, 'I-want-to-be-left-alone' frown, left her devastatingly disappointed.

She bowed down again, and left in god knows which direction, swaying her hips yet again. L literally threw the guttery thoughts out of his mind, and open in the door in soft, but wild anticipation.

The room was dark, but the glow emanating from the candle kept the darkness at bay. He closed the door behind him, looking at the girl, sitting on the wooden-floor with her back turned to him. She was busy in writing something on the scroll, giving it light strokes of a traditional brush.

She placed the brush gently on the small table, and turned around. For a moment she kept looking at him in amazement, and a bit of hurt swimming in her beautiful eyes. She really was very beautiful. Her pretty face looked like something perfectly crafted on her gracefully long, swan-like neck.

Then she spread her arms out, inviting him for an embrace. L dropped the heavy bag on the floor, and ran towards her, falling on his knees and into her arms. She curled her arms around him, listening to his soft sobs.

L nuzzled his face in her soft hair, and whispered something he wanted to say for so long, "Onee-san."


	13. Chapter 13: The Stranger, Minamo, and L

**Chapter Twelve**: The Stranger, Minamo, and L

"_O' wild child of the west_

_What 'tis ye ask of the Eastern Sun?"_

Minamo spoke softly; her voice was like the lyre of a musician.

"Very Poetic, but can you be a little unlike yourself for just a second," L responded like an audience who is bored of the superfluous tone of the self-absorbed poet.

Minamo's face gave the impression that she did not like L's remark.

"You are 24 years old, and still a brat. When will you grow up?" Minamo's eyes followed the little petal of the flower; it had already met its premature death. It landed on L's stooped, kimono covered shoulder.

"I grew up a couple of years back; thank you very much," L gave an offhanded lazy remark.

"Sounds like news to me," Minamo shot back; thoroughly enjoying L's girly tantrums, ever since he put on the kimono this morning.

It had dawned warm and sunny, but the weather had done little to cool down L's mighty-baby temper.

He was slumped, huffing on the thick tree root protruding out of the green ground. "I must look like an idiot in this," he said, looking like a pouting baby having a hellish stomach ache. "This is entirely, and totally your fault."

"My fault?" Minamo asked innocently; they were about to start their childish fight again, where Minano always won; always. "You have to go by the customs here, or else they will throw you out," Minamo said, sounding almost serious.

"Lies…You are just enjoying this." L turned his head away, pretending to search something valuable in the green grass.

"No I am not. I just thought you will look good in this." Minamo inched closer to L.

"Really?" L asked, trying to catch a flicker of glee on Minamo's face out of the corner of his watchful eyes.

"Yes," Minao answered, trying to put L's uncombed bangs back.

She was always protective of him; protective of her little brother, who was four years younger than her.

They used to play together under the heat of the summer sun, in the gentle warmth of spring, out in the open under the soft trickles, and surrounded by the coldness of the winter snow.

They were always together, and they both felt that nothing could ever pull them apart. But it happened, and it happened so soon, so quietly, that the loud noises of the crack in their life were heard by them in silence. They were left wondering, each in their own world, left only to mourn over their loss.

_L puffed at the little candles pressed into the cream covered strawberry cake. _

"_Happy Birthday Lawliet." Minamo inched closer, landing a small, quick peck on the little boy's rosy soft cheek._

"_You have left spit on my face," L complained, wiping his face on his new shirt. _

"_Here let me clean it for you," she said, dabbing L's cheek with her muffler. "Mom will get sad if she saw you dirtying it already."_

"_I have finally turned 5 today," L said happily, eyeing Minamo. "4 more years and I will be as old as you." He clutched the blue gift, and started tearing the wrapping. _

"_Then I will be 4 more years old," she broke the news to the overly enthusiastic little boy, sticking her tongue out teasingly. _

"_I am aware of the mathematics, but I just thought you should know that I will be growing wiser as the time goes by… This journey of life fascinates me," L said dreamily, holding the handsome wrist watch in his hand. _

"_You can be so weird sometimes," Minamo said, looking at L lost to work over his mental philosophies again. "Do you like the gift I bought you?" _

"_This wrist watch looks expensive. Where did you get the money for this?" L asked, clasping the golden watch around his thin wrist. The watch looked a little big for his tiny wrist. _

_Minamo sprang to her feet at the sound of the car coming in through the gate. She ran for the fogged window, wiping the traces of whitish fog from its chilly surface. "I have been saving money for it, that's how."_

_L shook his hand a couple of times, taking a glimpse at the ticking hands like grown ups do, then he ran for the girl peering at the back of the house. He stood close her, standing on his toes to take a peek outside the house._

"_Mother and Father are here," L forced his voice out, as most of his strength was being consumed to stand straight. "Do you think they will get angry, that we have blown the candles already?" he asked, carefully turning his little head, swaying from side to side. _

"_We? You were the one so anxious to blow out the candles." Minamo answered, bringing an uneasy, rather frightened look on her little brother's face. "I am just joking." She backed away from the coldness beating on her cheeks. "Come on let's go and sit by the fire, or you will catch a cold." She pulled L back on the ground, and stirred him by the wrist to the blazing fireplace. _

_L comfortably draped himself on the small rug, and put his hands close to the fire, feeling its warmth bring a tender feeling to his heart. _

"_I have another present for you." Minamo turned around, startled by the loud cries of her mother. _

_L crawled to Minamo, and curled up in her small lap, looking over his tiny shoulder at their parents' heated fight over something which they were unaware of. _

_They both watched their parents screaming and yelling at each other. But then, suddenly their mother grabbed L and Minamo by their arms and started dragging them outside. L and Minamo's father would not let her leave with both of his children, so he harshly snatched L away from her. _

_There were tears, exchange of harsh words, and intensely frightened, but innocent gazes beheld. And then… she left with Minamo back to Japan, and L was left in his father's care, who died three years later in a car accident. _

_The eyewitnesses said that the two cars met head on, and there was no chance that anyone would have survived. And no one did. L was orphaned that day; left alone with no one to care for him. _

_He did not know where his sister was, or where did his mother leave to. He kept saying to the head master at the orphanage, "to Japan; the land of the rising sun". He had read that in a book Minamo had gifted him on his fourth birthday; surely, that would make the search easy? _

_But the mean kids and that 'deaf to his words' headmaster paid no heed to him. But one man did. He understood him and his unbending resolve to find his mother and the sister he loved. _

_He assured him, if he became a student at Whammy's he will be taken care of, and people will try and look for his mother and sister, the two who lived in a large country, they called, 'the land of the rising sun'._

_The old man called himself Watari. He honoured his promises, and took care of the lonely boy, and searched for the mother and sister who were not his trouble. Day after day, week after week; month after month, and year after year, he came back with the same sad news. _

"_Where could they have gone to?" his ferociously brilliant, but innocent mind always wondered. _

_Then that broken innocence slowly left him, and at its place came dark stubble on his chin. His eyes had lost the glint of childlike mischievousness, now they remained almost unblinking and boldly watchful. _

_He was no longer a boy now, but a young man with a noble mission to rid the earth of its evils; he was the unnamed detective people used to call L. But somewhere deep inside him, he found a child he used to be, a child that cried for the arms of his mother in those rainy nights, when the thunder roared loudly in the sky. _

L came back to the present reality. His head was lying in his sister's lap as she combed his wild hair with her fingers. She was singing a local song, which he found quite soothing.

The tiny bells tinkled as the hit together, and the petals were dropping down on them like rain. The autumn season was beginning. He was a whole season late to see his mother, who had taken a walk to the other side.

"_What about mother? I don't see her anywhere," L asked uneasily, trying to get some sort of answer in his sister's eyes burning with tears. _

_The reality suddenly left him empty, and he felt that thing, that little child cry inside of him breathlessly. He was too late… He wanted to let that child chocking deep down within his soul, creep its way up, but his manhood will not let him. _

_His face did not crumple, but his eyes… yes, his eyes, they betrayed him. For the first time, in nineteen long and painful years, he was crying silently, feeling the salty lines trickle down his face which was no longer of a child. _

"How long will you be staying here?" Minamo asked, dragging him out of his memories.

He remained silent for a minute, looking up into Minamo's eyes, and further up into the sky and the small clouds at its corner.

"I will have to leave tomorrow," he said heavily.

"So soon? I want you to stay for at least a week," Minamo protested, catching a small hearty smile dance on L's lips.

"And who will catch Kira then?" L asked his worried sister, pulling himself up to his stooped position.

Minamo did not reply, she looked lost in thought. "If you really think Raito is Kira, then," she said in a low voice, as if she was whispering something secret to someone, "he might have something up his sleeve." She lowered her head, tearing her eyes away from the sky.

"I seriously doubt that," L said in a determined voice, getting slowly to his feet. "Only the most unlikeliest, and luckiest stroke of luck can save our dear friend now."

Minamo stood up, standing behind him, lowering her face that was covered in film of dread; something ominous was hovering close, so close that it frightened her.

_Raito could have sworn his decisions were starting to come back, and bite him hard on his ass. This would be one of those unfortunate times, when he cursed death upon his lady luck. _

_Who does she think she is? Abandoning me as if I am some common vermin? I am the god of the new world. I am…_

"_Raito-Kun, you don't look so good. Shall we stop for a cup of coffee?" Matsuda's high-pitched voice, that came out squeakier than usual broke off his thoughts suddenly, and without permission… The nerve of this persistent moron…_

"_Where?" Raito's voice was ahead of his sharp-as-knife mind. Today even his tongue had a mind of its own. Now he was left to baby-sit Matsuda; this could not have got any worse than it already was. _

"_Oh, over there." Matsuda's index finger trembled, as he bounced excitedly like Misa on the sofa seat. _

_Raito clenched the steering in his hand, feeling a surge of power by abusing the inanimate object, most probably confusing the steering with Matsuda's neck even if his own rationality was jeering and sneering at him. _

_Matsuda's neck is bigger than the steering, STUPID!_

_How dare his rationality make a mockery of him? He will teach them all a lesson; just they all wait and see._

"_Are you coming Raito-Kun?" Matsuda asked innocently, looking at Raito's pathetically twisted face. _

"_I am coming," Raito replied, which sounded more like a rude hiss than a polite reply. _

_Matsuda looked beyond excited at this insulting reply. The only thing left aside of bouncing around was a cheery clap. Raito trailed behind him, limping like a zombie dragged out of some-one else's grave. _

_Matsuda, unable to contain his excitement, that he was having a cup of coffee with THE-RAITO-KUN remained restless even in his steel chair. He twitched left and right, as if someone was running a jolt of utmost, almost wild-joy through his body. Boy oh boy, what joy!_

_Raito kept looking at Matsuda with a bored expression. His mind was of course else where, caught up in the tangles of failures; failures like Takada, failures like Misa, failures like Mikami, and the biggest failure of all; himself. _

_He felt like someone took a swipe and him, and succeeded too. His face stung from the slap of truth, and the burning shame that followed. He really had lost the battle to L. Who knew what that pansy was planning? Whatever it was, it was sure to do him in alright. So long, oh dear dream of mine. _

"_You know Raito-kun, I don't like L," Matsuda began just like those old trains, that emit a gargling sound first, then jerk, and then suddenly start dragging on the rails, making unpleasant rattling sounds… Raito really wanted to strangle him now. _

_He wanted to scream in rage, "YOU FUCKING BASTARD, AS IF I LOVE HIM." But he remained quiet, trying to preserve a bit of showy-chivalry left within him. _

"_I went to his office, you see." Matsuda cleared his voice as if trying his hardest to show some hidden art of polite conversation; this was his turn to amuse the bored Raito, perhaps with his eternal desire to look likable. _

"_I overheard him talking to G. He is still on your case. Can you believe him?" Matsuda's voice abruptly raised on 'can you believe him' part. That was more than enough to break the menacing silence that had invisibly sewn Raito's dry lips. _

_Raito jumped in his chair, leaning his head forward like a vulture about to poke Matsuda's eye out with its beak, and make a horse satisfying cry afterwards. "What do you mean?" Raito asked slowly and carefully, keeping his voice leveled that surprised even him. _

"_I only heard a bit," Matsuda continued his bitter-sweet tale. _

"_Yes, yes go on," Raito urged Matsuda, looking quite taken with this tale that for the moment felt like the lustful song of a siren. _

"_He said he had it under control, and only a few days are left till the 13 day rule will be declared fake," Matsuda ended the story proudly, hoping he had scored some points of respect in Raito's tiny heart. _

_Raito sat still. This news fell on his head like a fatal blow of a baseball bat. It was all over; L had won. In only few more days, he will be exposed. _

_Raito ran his hands, which looked whiter than a corpse's, through his sweaty hair. His insides were trembling, and he felt sick to his stomach. He made an awful face, but pressed his lips together defiantly. He will not shamefully spill his coffee out in public. _

"_Oh and he said that was going to meet someone in Kuze Shrine. I never thought he would ever leave his office eh?" Matsuda chuckled, puffing at the steam rising on top of the cup. _

_Suddenly, the juices he was about to vomit out went back to his stomach. He felt healthy and vitalized again. _

_Who cares about Takada and Misa; he will prove to be more useful after all. The fool… this will prove to be his final picnic. _

"_I knew the coffee will cheer you up Raito-kun," Matsuda remarked, meeting Raito's eyes that sparkled of joy of another kind. _

"You will be staying here for two days sir?" the young woman asked the stranger, who had tried to strike up a conversation with L earlier

The man nodded politely in reply, looking at the hut standing next to the fountain.

"Your name sir?" The woman asked, holding the brush firmly to write down his name.

"Teru…Mikami Teru," the man said softly, removing his glasses to reveal his shining brown eyes that hid the redness of revelation.


	14. Chapter 14: A Quick Death

**Comments: **I have made this chapter as interesting as possible. I hope this was worth everyone's long wait.

**Chapter fourteen**: A Quick Death

Raito walked into the room filled with the aroma of sweets. He swept his gaze around, and then settled it on the young assistant he actually never liked. Presently Gevanni's thin eyebrow was cocked, and he was giving that unwelcoming expression.

"Where is L?" He looked around again, hoping to find the anomaly that was L, curled up into a ball close to his laptop. But today the laptop was closed, and the sweet laden trolley was still untouched.

"He is busy at the moment," Gevanni said, getting himself busy with the trolley again.

"Tell him that I need to see him," Raito said, shoving his hands in his pockets. His coat's sleeves were puckered at the elbows, and the pants looked so wrinkly that he looked like someone who had slipped into the clothes just pulled out of the washing machine drier.

"I am afraid it is not possible." Gevanni flapped the cloth in his hand like a typical butler, and turned a little to face Raito. "I told you he is busy."

"How busy is he, that he cannot even spare a few minutes." Raito pulled one hand out to give one of his lazy waves.

"I think that is why I was appointed." Gevanni threw the cloth on the trolley. "So that you can tell me anything important."

Raito turned his eyes slightly, looking at the security room that was just beyond the door he was facing. Was L really such a fool? Was he desperate? Raito did not know, but the palpable feeling of dread was eating him inside out…If he were to make it out of this hellhole alive with his head and nose held high, Matsuda had to be right.

Raito drew a long sigh, moving his keen brown eyes around again, but this time he settled them on the window, and the long, light blue drawn curtains. He lifted his eyes just a little, looking at the blue sky, the sky that was same for all humans, but not for him.

"I need to tell him something about this new Kira show." Raito lowered his gaze, running his eyes over the long shadow of the steel rod between the windows, stretching on the carpeted floor.

"You can tell me, and I will make sure L gets the message," Gevanni said in a heavy voice, and Raito could somehow suddenly sense a strange wall of rivalry between them.

Raito cocked his head to one side. "When will I have the pleasure of his company then?"

Gevanni said nothing as he pushed the trolley at the end of the room. The steel wheels under it squeaked a little.

"Maybe tonight," Gevanni said, walking around the trolley to tend to the curtains. He really did look like a male-house-maid missing her apron, short mini skirt, and the classic pantyhose.

"Maybe? What do you mean maybe?" Raito asked, taking a single step forward.

"Maybe means maybe, Raito. If he is free, then I will send you a message, or you can wait in the hall all day," Gevanni said as a matter of fact sort of way with his back turned towards Raito.

"This is great," Raito thought, putting his hands on his face.

He squinted through his spread out fingers. He felt defeat crushing him with its weight. Yagami Raito, the god of the new world was loosing again before L. His breath came to his lips like a sharp knife, slashing his throat… The pain of death, he could feel it. If L did not return, his plan would be a failure.

"Anything else?" Gevanni said, standing next to the curtain that looked same as before, it could be missing a dust bunny or two, but Raito could not tell.

"No." Raito pulled down his hands. "Just give me a message when he gets back."

Gevanni remained quiet, watching Raito slowly walk out of the door. He made his way to the security room, electronically locking the door behind him. This was the only place security devices were still installed. L had asked Gevanni to remove them, fearing that Raito might try and hack into the computers which had a load of evidences against him.

He sat on a chair with four small wheels placed next to the security cameras. All of them were off, save for the one set up at the entrance. Apparently, this was L's nutty idea as well, and behind it was his fear of Raito's followers stealing tapes of him taking a shower in the bathroom, and of course other needless spying.

It was not L's big secret, because the whole team new about it, thanks to L's petty little desperate attempts at gaining trusts through those damn new-timings files. Making them feel that he was finally seeing things their way now, and that Raito was no longer the astronomical asshole he thought he was.

Gevanni had no idea what possessed him to do it, but he had a slight guess about a certain lollypop L was so obsessed with, that he snuck out of the building one night to buy it himself. Gevanni had to drag him inside; fearing that someone might have seen his face.

"_See G-san." L pointed the sickly pink lollypop at the clock. "Five whole minutes have passed. If someone with Shinigami eyes saw me, I should have been dead by now," he said thoughtfully, putting the huge lollypop in his mouth again. _

_Gevanni only looked on. He looked quite desolate after such a life and death struggle of making sure, L made it safely from the candy shop to his home sweet home._

Gevannni dialed L's number, and let out a loud sigh, listening to "I am a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world" played out in a squeaky, Misa like voice. Apparently, L had some eccentric tastes in music.

He slipped his leg over the other, and shook it a couple of times. The chair was hard, and whenever he sat on it, his left butt-cheek always fell asleep. Sometimes he wondered, _why not the right one_? This was just one of his many grievances.

Gevanni watched the black monitor screens, and the one turned on. The security guard was presently busy scratching his crouch with his right hand. Then after he got bored, he shoved his right hand inside a plastic bag, and produced a creamy pastry. The concept of hygiene was lost on him.

Gevanni breathed into the mobile, the song started playing for the third time.

"Hello," came the same bored voice through the mobile.

"Raito was asking for you," Gevanni said, pressing the buttons on the control panel to take a look at the telephone booth next to the entrance.

"You did not tell him, did you?" L asked, speaking with those usual pauses.

Gevanni ignored L's weird sense of humour, that was weirder than his. "When will you be back? The team might start suspecting that you are missing," he said, putting both his boots on the floor.

"I see you are very thoughtful G. I got all the tickets." L's voice suggested something close to lukewarm excitement.

Gevanni rolled his eyes. He had literally worked his butt of, just so that L could have an adventurous ride on the bus. L had explained his fondness for windows, and hostesses, and the thrill of carrying luggage. Gevanni had no idea what was so damn exciting about it, or maybe L was just plain nutty.

"I had sent three different tickets…Just in case you decided to change your mind," Gevanni said quite thoughtfully. L was quite indecisive in such matters, and in selection of clothes and spare under-wears for the trip, because he kept on insisting that one underwear was enough.

"When all this is over, I will make you my permanent assistant," L sounded weirdly excited now, just like the time he chewed on the banana's peel with his eyes on the provocative lipstick commercial, starring the weird over-talkative bimbo Misa. He had his bizarre kinks.

"I am excited." Gevanni's voice came out quite sarcastically.

"No need to hurt my feelings G-san. We will get past our differences, and learn to accept each other…one way or the other,"he ended almost offhandedly.

Gevanni let out a long sigh. Working with L was clearly taking its toll on him, but the rewards were quite tantalizing…He would only get richer if he did so. The thought brought a nice greedy smile on his lips.

"I will be back before ten o'clock, hopefully," L said, sniffing the mobile.

"Should I send the package, or …"

"No, you can leave after I get back. The package is very important. I want all the evidence with Rester-San before we bring Raito, and his accomplices in." L's excided voice had turned serious again.

"Alright. Have a safe return," Gevanni said, looking at the small box warped with tapes, sitting just next to the monitors.

"You sound like my wife, G-San. The wife I do not even have," L said before ending the call, leaving Gevanni enraged and teased again.

Raito paced down the cloistered pavement just outside the student dormitories. He stopped, his eyes and ears cocked at the brilliant clap of thunder, and the monstrous roar that chased it afterwards.

He used to study here once. How far had he come, but L had dragged him back to square one. L's lucky streak, or maybe his stubborn resilience were the reasons behind his missteps, which seemed small at first, but turned out to be major setbacks.

The detective was cleverer than he imagined. He smiled to himself. It was a wounded smile…His luck had saved him again. If Matsuda had not overheard him, he would never have been able to send Mikami along. But still, it was still not enough…

He cracked his knuckles, clenching his jaws. He had two people working for him, but still…how was L able to tread so far ahead of him? This was supposed to be an even game.

Raito turned his head, looking at the tall building standing between so many smaller ones. He had not walked that far. If Gevanni sent him a message, he would make it back in a few minutes.

He strode over the small gap between the pavement, and the lawn, and walked up to an empty bench under the plastic shed. Several students sent curious glances his way, but he ignored them, and sat on it.

It was late after noon, but the sun was no where to be seen. The news channels had predicted heavy rain, and from the looks of it, it was probably going to rain cats and dogs. He put his hand on the bench's back, turning the small mobile in his other hand.

Several girls clustered around the small fountain just in the middle of the lawn. They were giggling, and looking his way. The jaw length hair, and small stubble gave them the impression that he was probably a teacher, and a handsome one at that.

Raito turned his eyes, thinking that they were a little to much like his clingy girlfriend, who always wanted him to get all romantic with her, nearly all the time. And that wishy-washy desire was never shared by him. Not that Misa was not useful in bed, she was, but her constant whining was getting on his nerves.

He did not know what was worse. A Misa with death note, sending open threats to all female kind to get the fuck off her non-existent case, or the one who had no memory of death note, but kept beating randomly lame whines into his head all day long.

Raito chuckled like a sorry ass case out of his own freak show of followers; both Misas' were just as bad. He flicked his fingers, listening to the drops of rain beating down on the shed, and watching the young girls break for covers.

He smiled to himself, picking up the ringing mobile.

"Kami," the voice said in absolute devotion that brought a flicker of joy to his face.

"Did you find out?" Raito asked, sensing a flare of pride rise up to his eyes.

"Yes," Mikami said calmly, "should I kill him now?"

"Are you a fool?" Raito said quickly, pulling his hand down from the back. His calm voice turned into a sharp hiss.

"Sorry…Kami…" Mikami said after a long pause.

The pitter patter of the rain had now progressed to loud drumming over Raito's head. He turned up the volume, and pressed the mobile to his ear again.

"Do it only if he does not leave before 4 o'clock…"

"He has already left," Mikami informed Raito, that twisted Raito's prideful smile into something hideous.

"And you are telling me this NOW?" Raito got to his feet, yelling under the shed. His eyes squinting at the ugly Shinigami laughing out loud in rain. The rain drops were falling through him, and his huge unsightly grin still looked as hideous as ever. Ryuk had flown his ass all the way here just for amusement.

"Don't yell Kami…I am in the bus with him," Mikami whispered slowly, putting a hand over his mouth. He looked at L's head, and his hair…they looked as if something had accidently blown up inside of them.

"What?" Raito blurted out, unable to hear anything between the roars of thunder, the drumming of rain, and Ryuk's guffaws… He really wanted to put his boot in that huge ugly mouth of his.

"I am in the bus right now, Kami." Mikami pursed his lips, looking over the sofa seat, and above the heavy spaghetti like perms of a fat lady sitting in front of him. He had that resolve in his eyes to keep watch on L, who sat happily next to the driver's seat, while he was squashed up against the window in the last seat of the long bus.

"I see," Raito huffed, thankfully the sky had quieted down, but Ryuk was still as persistent as ever. "Ryuk, just leave me alone for two seconds…this is ACTUALLY important," he said to Ryuk, whose legs were stretched out vertically in the air. He looked like some one lying in a missionary position, ready to get fucked, but giggling at how impatient the lover was.

"Hyuk Hyuk Hyuk." Ryuk sat up on an invisible chair of some sort, which was probably pasted under his bony ass. "Hyuk Hyuk." He gave a last sputtering laugh, and opened his golf ball sized eyes. "Yagami Raito is boring me today. What has he planned for fun?" He stretched his thin black lips. His resemblance to an emo teenager, sporting tight bitchy leather pants, and fluffy fur was quite uncanny. But he had yet to attempt suicide when Raito denied him any apples.

"There is an apple tree just around the corner. Go and find some apples." He absentmindedly pointed his finger at the huge tower about a few hundred meters away from him.

Ryuk turned his head three sixty degrees, sticking his long tongue out, that was now hanging five to six inches down his chin…He looked disgusting…

"Finally." Raito pressed the mobile to his ear again, looking at Ryuk happily flying for the tree which was not even there. "Just stay with him. If he does not make it before ten, then write his name just as I told you to."

"Yes Kami. And if he does, then am I to wait, or write it down before eleven forty five?" Mikami's lips parted with a hiss. He was getting in his lusty mood again, and his eyes suggested the same heavy feeling of thrill.

"You do not need to wait for me." Raito felt it again, those powerful welling desires, the zest for the creation of his new world, the offering of a worthy sacrifice. "Do it before midnight." The emotions chocked his voice down to a mere whisper. He could feel it now, overwhelming and burning inside of him; the surety of another victory.

"You have another call," the computer said.

Raito pressed the answer button, and got greeted by a familiar ear splitting scream, "RAITOOOOO."

"Hello Misa." Raito's mood had turned dull all of a sudden, and his lips sagged further down when Ryuk appeared from behind the building. His slightly less stretched lips must have been some sort of hint at sadness.

"Misa is missing her Raito-Kun," she sang on the phone. "I want Raito to come home now," she said, trying to sound like a five year old on crack, hinting at quick sex and all the things prude people found not so prudish. It was obvious; Misa was a pain in his ass through and through.

"Misa, I will not be back before ten o'clock," he ended with a long sigh.

"B-but…" she began her long whine, which typically revolved around emotional, and mostly bodily needs, and her intimate performance with new panties.

"Misa, go to bed like a good girl, and I will come home when I am done here," Raito broke her off, putting that extra stress on good girl.

"Hehehehe. Misa loves her Raito." She giggled again, sending a dozen noisy smooches over the mobile, before she hung up.

"You look in a good mood." Ryuk hovered over his head like a bad looking, nightmarish omen.

"It is an exciting day, Ryuk," Raito answered happily, slipping the mobile in his pocket.

"Really? Somehow I do not feel excited." Ryuk's crazed tone changed a little.

Raito arched his eyebrow at him. "And why is that?"

"That tree had no apples." Ryuk crossed his legs, and gave a weary hang of his melon sized head. He had mistaken a dry shrub for an apple tree.

"Look around you Ryuk?" Raito slowly swept his hand around in air. "It is still summer." He said, brining his gaze back to the death god.

"How should I know," Ryuk answered back innocently. "All the seasons look the same from way up there," he finished thoughtfully with the philosophic look on his face, or as much as his eternally frozen contours, and not-vanishing-anytime-soon grin could allow.

"With nothing to eat, no hobbies, and watching live entertainment twenty four seven from way up there … no wonder you ended up looking quite an eyeful," Raito said, walking slowly out of the dorms.

"But what about the apples you gave me yesterday?" Ryuk asked, floating behind him.

"They were stored from the previous apple season, and are very expensive," Raito whispered, making his way through the large open gate.

"Raito, you are such a cheapskate," Ryuk remarked, erupting into his sudden and accidental peals of laughter.

Raito cringed his neck, and rolled his eyes; _did Ryuk think he made big bucks out of this stupid job? _Between Misa's never-ending demands of new bikinis, and Ryuk's persistent hounding to buy him some apples, he was surprised he had enough to fend for himself, and buy some clothes to cover his ass. These two were like two jealous wives with their excess baggage. And he was thinking about permanently divorcing one of them.

"Tell you what Ryuk." Raito smiled, escalating his slow walk to long strides. "Go and check the main building for any cameras, and bugs, and I might just buy you some apples."

Ryuk's grin literally stretched to his elongated ears. "Seriously?" he asked, revealing all his pointed teeth.

"Yes," Raito said quickly, and stopped to look at the death god, whose obsession with fun and red apples was ridiculous.

"Buy me those lush red ones from that vendor, who sells them next to the ramen restaurant." He rolled in air like an excited mutt.

Raito's nose cocked, as if he just smelled the death god's rotten-fish-like fart… Those apples costed more than 2 dollars each; _was this death god fucking crazy?_

"You know Ryuk, there are other apples as well," Raito reasoned, squinting on Ryuk, who looked back at him indifferently. Because if he kept buying those apples for Ryuk, he might just end up on the road with Misa, and her three ton make-up kits on his head.

"Make up your mind, Yagami boy," Ryuk teased Raito, floating around him like a pesky fly.

Raito drew a long, shaky breath. It was time to suck it up, and do it…Damn this death god, he had been saving that money for a shaving kit.

"Fine," he said after a long pause, which brought another loud cackle from the Shinigami.

"That's what I love about you Raito." Ryuk flew several feet up. "Your resolve," he said, and started floating for the tall building.

Raito stood quietly next to a book store, watching the Shinigami disappear out of his sight behind the thick veil of distance.

L stood stooped next to the table with a large answering machine sitting on it, looking at Raito with half-lidded eyes. He scratched his foot lazily, and slipped both his hands in those classic blue jeans.

"You wanted to see me, Raito-Kun?" he asked the crazed young man, standing just three feet away from him.

The room was quiet, but the sudden loud bangs of thunder, and Takada's voice on the television disturbed the usual silence.

"I wanted to show this to you?" Raito pointed at the Kira show, which brought no enthusiastic response from L.

L hung his head to one side, and gave a quick look at the TV screen, and then brought his attention back to Raito.

"What is so special about it Raito-kun, that you have been hounding my assistant all day long just to see me?" L stretched his eyes out, looking at Raito's strange, growing smile. "And honestly Raito-Kun, what is so funny?"

Raito chuckled a little. "No L, nothing is funny…"

"No please, tell me, I insist?" L asked, meeting Raito's eyes, "is it the wild gothic hairdo, the shabby pants, some kinky tail I am missing on my behind?"

Raito's chuckles progressed to a hearty laugh. "It's just that…You seem to be alone today, don't you?" Raito narrowed his gaze, which was met by a curious glance from L.

"What do you exactly mean by that, Raito-kun?" L pulled his shoulders back a little, maintaining an expressionless smile on his face.

"Where have you sent Gevanni, L? You shouldn't have done that," Raito said, still smiling.

L gave a short giggle. "Who told you that? The Shinigami?"

"Are you mocking me L, because this time the joke is on you." Raito's smile faded as he stood under the cover of shadow.

"Why are you here?" L's smile flew from his lips. "Don't beat around the bush Raito-Kun, if you already know no one is here." L looked through his black hair…his blazing eyes set on the man in front.

"Like I said, I wanted to show you something." Raito's hearty smile returned, and he pointed a finger at the TV lazily.

L's eyes turned, and the man he saw knocked the breath out of him. His colour disappeared for a second, he looked paler, almost dead with what his eyes saw.

"Hi, my name is Mikami Teru," the man with glasses said quite civilly on the show.

"What made you join us for Kira's cause?" Takada asked, holding a mike close to him.

"I think Kira is doing an admirable job…" The picture disappeared, but L's gaze could not move, it remained settled on the black screen…was he defeated, so easily?

"I just wanted to show this man to you," Raito said, putting the remote-control on the small table just next to him.

Raito's words were not reaching L. He stood still next to the table, feeling his heart throw itself against his ribs, and his breath burning his throat.

L closed his eyes, and let out a loud laugh that startled Raito…he had never seen L laugh. Other than the annoying sounds of his strange giggles, this sound was unfamiliar, almost crazed.

L let out a sigh, and brought his gaze on Raito, who stared back at him, curious and amused. "Did Matsuda tell you everything?" L's mind quickly brought back the memory when he talked with Gevanni, only to be interrupted by Matsuda…He must have been eavesdropping…

Raito licked his lips. "So you are not that slow to catch on. He just…"

L raised his hand, silencing Raito. "I don't need to know anything. Matsuda-San is quite the gossiping whore I see," L hissed, smiling bitterly. He looked angry.

Raito remained quiet, looking back into the black pools that looked brighter, and full of energy today.

"I asked you something a minute ago, Raito-Kun?" L's voice had turned from calm to harsh. "Why are you here?"

"This is why I am here." Raito's lips parted into that toothy, sadistic grin. He pulled out the note from his jeans, and showed it to L.

"Ah," L said, eyeing the black book with full attention, "this book must be your fetish Raito-Kun…Curiously, do you jerk off with it often, that you have the need to stick it inside your panties?"

All this time he had been searching for this book. He had no idea that his rival hid it in his underpants.

The comment wiped the smirk off Raito's face. "Still as cocky as ever L," he growled.

"No Raito-Kun, you are just as cheap as ever," L shot back, standing calmly away from Raito.

The windows rattled, and the building shook after the flashes in the sky, and moments later the rain came pouring down, pressing against the wide windows. The rivals stood still, one clam, while the other breathed heavily. They stared at each other aloof, their glares bent on the other firmly.

It suddenly felt cold, and Raito's warm breath left puffs in the air. L stood quietly, not making a sound. His mind was calculating…what else had Raito planned? Was he going to kill him the next minute, or do something else? But what?

"See this?" Raito opened the book, and showed a name written on it.

"What the hell is this?" L asked, looking up from the heavy scribble to Raito's face. "I cannot read a thing. Are you in a habit of writing with your toes? If so, then this is something I have got to see with my own two eyes." He smiled, watching Raito's happy face get twisted.

"Shut up L. Why don't you stick this brave devil-may-care bullshit up your ass," Raito spat venomously. His forehead was lined with long furrows.

"No one is being brave," L said, pushing a few strands off his eyes, "I am just telling you, what I am seeing."

"No, L Lawliet, you are being a pain, just as usual." Raito regained his twisted smile, which was his idea of civil behaviour.

L's own name rang like bells tolling in a church. His lips parted with shock.

"So Mikami has Shinigami eyes as well," L thought, not giving away any more than needed. "How did you find out? Must have been a thrilling, paltry adventure."

"He has Shinigami eyes," Raito began, slowing pacing around L like a vulture ready to feed on a dying animal.

Raito went on, explaining, how he sent Mikami after L, and how he managed to conquer him so easily.

"Why show such mercy?" L asked.

Raito backed away, and leaned against the wall. His eyes were lust-filled that he had such control over life and death; he was truly a god.

"In the heat of the moment, I almost forgot." Raito smiled at L's indifferent face. "I have an offer, L."

"Why create such suspense Raito-Kun. You were always such an attention seeking whore," L said bravely, feeling bitter that he had no idea what Raito will do, all thanks to Matsuda…_That bastard._

A frown appeared between Raito's brows, but it vanished the next second. "I am giving you two choices." he tossed the book on the table. "Your name is just missing one letter" He showed L his index finger.

Suddenly L felt the fear for his mortal life…He felt human, a normal human afraid for his mortality.

"One, tell me the name of the prisoner, and join my cause. I will spare your life," Raito said in a business like tone, putting a pen on the book. "Two, die. It is just that simple."

L gulped down the breath catching in his throat. He was left hanging between the devil, and the deep blue sea.

"What makes you think I will do such a thing?" L's pride spoke first, making the decision for him.

"Do you actually think, I will spare your life if you don't?" Raito gave a mocking look, pushing himself off the wall, and taking a few paces toward L. "We are not in love L."

"This idea of third-grade homoerotic joke, must stem from your own dubious sexuality," L said, smiling a little.

"Let me tell you a little secret L." Raito's dangerous sneer grew wider. "You only have a few minutes to make up your mind, because after that Mikami will simply kill you, and I will still win just like I was destined to."

L's lips were sealed; this was a loose loose situation.

"And when that happens." Raito leaned in to Whisper in L's ear. "You will not live to see another second." He backed away. "Think about your future L, or maybe your little friend. She must miss you after all that chitchat."

Silence held L back, and he could still feel disgust rising under his skin where Raito's lips had brushed only moments ago.

"Hurry up L, and choose the first option. You can join me, and create the world where I will become …"

"Nothing," L cut him off, "you think too highly of yourself Yagami Raito." The sound of Raito's full name came as a shock to him. The detective was subtly shaking with anger.

"Do you honestly believe, that you, a mere mortal will somehow accidently transform into a god." Each of his words came out louder than the other. "You have limits, Yagami Raito…You will never become a god. I can bet my life on it."

The thunder roared in the sky, and the flash of light brought L's face in full view. It was not clam, expressionless, but covered with a thick veil of anger. And Raito looked on, almost mesmerized by this display of emotions from the emotionless detective.

"Obsessions do not come in objects," L breathed heavily, "they come in people," he paused, meeting Raito's gaze with the glare of his own, "you are an insane man…a sociopath…a murderer," he said slowly, taking his sweet time before each insult. "And a dirty little insect, writing in the cesspool of human frailty…nothing more and nothing less. So do not think that you can possibly elevate yourself to that level, because you will always stink like an excrement that you are."

L's long speech was met with a sharp slap across the face. He faced Raito again defiantly, his eyes emanating malice, and hatred. His lower lip was bleeding. A fine red line was travelling down his chin.

Raito leaned in, and licked the blood off L's chin."I did not know, that victory could taste so sweet L." His lusty eyes flashed, and his warm breath fanned out on L's lips.

"You are repulsive Yagami Raito, and I wish you a death fitting for your crimes," L whispered, not turning his eyes away.

Raito took a few steps back, casting just a brief glace at the clock that struck eleven forty four pm. "By the way L, this book is not the real death note," he said, smiling at the man who had been made a fool out of, "the real death note is with Mikami… I just decided to fool you."

This revelation struck L across the face, harder than Raito's slap. If he had known, he would have tried to do something…Why didn't he?

Somehow, he did not know. All the answers seem irrelevant. The only thing that mattered now, were the names of the people whom he had worked with.

"Yes, I should write them down for Raito," L thought, his mind unhinged when the clock's hand moved to forty six.

L paced for the fake note Raito had placed on the table. He took the pen gently, and started writing down the names, one by one.

"The prisoner's name should come first," a thought rang in his mind. Slowly, he moved the pen over the page; Andrew Simon, Radha Ahmir, Steve Burnside, Stephen Gevanni…

Raito ran his eyes over the names. His eyes stopped on Radha's. They bulged out in shock, so L really was using Misa to get information. How much information had he streamed out of her stupid head?

The sneer that had disappeared a second ago, returned with full force. It parted his lips, he felt excited, in control. It did not matter; the list of names L was writing down will be enough to close this Kira chapter forever.

L had stopped writing. He stood silently, bent over the table, looking down at the book with expressionless, almost empty eyes.

Suddenly, the pen slipped from his hand. L fell on the floor with a loud thud. His eyes widened with pain, and his heart made speed to catch just a few beats to live. His face contorted a little, and he arched his back.

All of it ended in a second. L's last breath escaped his parted lips with a long sigh. His body relaxed on the floor, and his partly open eyes stared into Raito's.

Raito sent the names to Mikami, looking down from the clock that struck exactly eleven fifty nine pm, to the eyes of the detective again. The clock struck twelve am. He gulped lungful of air, counting forty seconds; one, two, three…

The second's passed so slowly. It pained him…wouldn't the time just hurry up for him just this once? The minute hand moved forward. One minute, then two minutes. Panic came over. This looked too much like the last time.

The rain outside had stopped, and the darkness in the room was only cut through by sudden, wild flashes in the sky. The quietness in the room was overwhelming him completely.

"Curse you, you bastard," Raito snarled, running both his hands through his sweaty hair.

Raito jumped, when the silence of the room was broken by the loud rings on the answering machine. It rang and rang, and after a long beep a voice came through, "L-San…L-San?" The voice startled Raito. He turned fully, and bent over the answering machine. "I just wanted to inform you, that the prisoner is dead. Please get back to me, as soon as you can."

The voice stopped, but it was a new beginning for Raito. Luck was on his side again.

Raito looked down at the man lying quietly on the floor. "Thank you, L," he said, but it brought no response from L. He knelt up next to L, and brushed a hand over his eyes, closing them.

L was dead.

I do not want anyone to abandon this story, because this will not turn into a fight between Near-Mello (the little ….), and Raito/light. But from here the story will take a completely different turn. So stick with me, if you are interested. And L will continue to be the main character. How? You will just have to keep reading, and find out.


	15. Chapter 15: Funeral Procession

**Chapter fifteen**: Funeral Procession

The SPK stood at the corner, a grieving huddle of men. They had lost L yesterday. Their drooping eyes glazed by tiredness and grief. All that work, all that effort, and they had still lost another member.

They stood in a graveyard. A six feet deep ditch was ready, and so was the coffin housing the dead body of the world's greatest detective. He was to be buried under a false name. In his life, he was shrouded in mystery, and in death he would remain a mystery still.

The summer was wearing on, and the cool wind of the autumn was blowing in their masked covered faces. It was Gevanni's suggestion, and Soichiri agreed. The thought of loosing his young son was heart stopping, and frightening.

"_A masked funeral Procession?" Raito asked, looking at his father. "That will look cheery." _

"_It is for everyone's safety." Gevanni raised his voice. Raito scoffed in reply, but his father looked convinced. _

"_Don't be ridiculous Raito, Gevanni is right," __Soichiri said, looking down at the plain fox like masks lying on the table. _

_"I suppose the whole damn world is right, and I must be some sort of jackass then." Raito pointed to himself, narrowing his eyes on Matsuda for some sort of moral support. _

_Soichiri looked over his shoulder, throwing a disapproving look, and then he busied himself with the masks again. _

_Matsuda hummed something, and began, "well, Raito-Kun." He cracked an awkward smile. "Yagami-San is…well…" he stopped suddenly, staring down at his shoes. _

_Raito glared at him, how dare he!_

_"We will look ridiculous." Raito waved his hands in air, the fact that Gevanni even existed in this world, was driving him insane. _

_"You can go without a mask then, Raito," Gevanni said, wearing a challenging look. "Or maybe you are just too confident in your survival."_

_Aizawa stepped in. "There is no need to fight among ourselves," he said, breaking into the start of a heated argument, which would be the third one between them since L's death last night. "Raito, Gevanni is right. We should play it safe. There is no need for rash behaviour. I do not think I would be able to handle another member's loss." _

_Raito turned on his heels and marched for the end of the room. "What was going on?" he thought, enraged and defeated. _

About twenty feet from the group, clumped together, stood Raito. His eyes narrowed behind the thin slits on the mask.

His mind was racing, and a few facts had twisted his expressions. Gevanni was still alive. _But how, and why?_ He had told L to write down the names of his buddies. The prisoner died, but Gevanni was still stinking the air around him.

_What if the prisoner was still alive? Were they playing games with him?_ He felt it, that strange sensation of defeat; hissing and flickering its tongue at him. He hunched under his coat.

Sweeping his eyes around the grief-stricken surrounds, and the bumps on the ground, his gaze stooped at three people and a few priestesses. L was to be given a proper funeral.

"What a joke," the words ran through his mind.

The detective was dead. All they had to do was engrave a slab with RIP, and stick it behind L's grave. Straight and easy…job done.

Gevanni was busy quarrelling with someone behind the long cloth hanging down from a shed. Raito did not know, and neither did he care. Thin long furrows ran across his brow, and he fisted his fingers in desperation. L was dead, but Gevanni had survived his deadly assault.

A loud burst of thunder followed a flash of lightening. A light spitting soon followed. The rainy season had begun, and soon the trees will bear buds of apple fruits.

"The slimy bastard," Raito spat out a gob of saliva behind his mask, glaring at the ugly death god.

Ryuk was flying around the air, snickering at something entertaining. He had wasted his entire wallet on apples, but still, Ryuk wouldn't tell anything about the prisoner. Ryuk was just as useless as Misa.

A procession of priestesses carrying some ceremonial things in their hands, were singing remorsefully. It was like a mass of requiem, _a requiem for his sanity_, Raito thought, shoving his cold bitten hands in his pockets. The atmosphere was so gloomy for him, that the thought of sex with Misa somehow felt quite welcoming.

Relaxing his face, Raito let out a soft chuckle. _Had he really become that desperate? _Probably, or maybe it was just the requirement of the melodramatic scene. He was the god of the new world. So what if Gevanni was alive, he will just wait and see how the play L had so carefully orchestrated will unfold.

The thought ebbed away the pain of L's final assault. He still had Takada, and Mikami, while the team stood aloof from victory…they had lost L. His calm face broke into a smile. He had won.

"Why am I here again?" the tall, slim man with a lissome body and sinfully captivating face eyed curiously by a couple of priestesses, stood facing Gevanni. His green eyes had that fleck of redness. He looked really angry.

"Keep your voice down," Gevanni said, clenching his teeth.

"Why bother…you know how civilized he is?" The girl tied her hair back in a ponytail, tucking up her long kimono.

"Please, as if you are the spitting image of decency. You swear like a fucked up sailor," he said, looking over his shoulder at the priestesses who smiled back at him.

"Just…Just whisper…please, Steve," Gevanni pleaded, taking a glimpse at Raito talking with Matsuda, from behind the shed flapping with the wind. He returned his attention back to Steve, "I had to make sure…"

"Awww, you were worried about moi?" Steve spread his arms out, smirking at Gevanni. "My name is not Steve, and you know it."

Gevanni's face twisted a little. "Yes, unfortunately." He looked at Steve's large smile, recalling his conversation with L.

"_Tell them," L began, putting his thumb on his lips, "that they are to keep their real names to themselves."_

_Gevanni looked at him incredulously. "Why? You already know the prisoner's name, why not theirs, and mine."_

_L smiled. "Rester-San made that mistake. I am just doing this as a precaution. If kira uses me, all of you will be dead."_

_Gevanni looked away shuddering. Maybe L was right, it was better this way. _

Steve turned the mask in his hand. "Well, it was clearly not a part of my deal to be here."

Radha, tucking a part of the kimono in her waist band looked at Gevanni.

"You were supposed to bring back the files from Rester, so, I have no idea why you are complaining," Gevanni said quickly, pushing a small paper inside a plastic covering in his coat's pocket.

"Sorry, but it was written no where in the damn contract that I would be attending funerals." He brushed his hair. "But why is she here?"

"I came to attend the funeral," Radha said, putting the mask on her face.

"How kind," Steve sighed out, "anyhow, when should I leave."

"You turned out to be quite the little thief, didn't you?" Gevanni clapped his chest.

Steve cringed his face. "I returned it, didn't I?"

Gevanni brought his gaze on Steve, meeting his sharp green eyes. "How many more are you still keeping for yourself?"

Steve narrowed his eyes. "I could not find all the pages. It is Miss goody two-shoes, but tight-assed pussy Takada you should be worried about, not me," he said slowly, amusing himself. "One page is still missing." He held up his index finger.

Gevanni breathed heavily for a moment, "No, you are right, because I still have your scanned dairy with me." His gaze slid over Steve's anger filled, red face. Steve's lips trembled, and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing.

"One page is still missing," Gevanni said to himself, sitting on a small chair. She had managed to keep that one hidden, despite Steve's efforts.

"You still haven't told me why I am here." Steve zipped up his black jacket. The dark colour of his clothes complimented his red hair, and fair skin. He looked beautiful with his unshaven face, and the priestesses had been noticing it for the past hour or so.

Gevanni shook his head absentmindedly, and got to his feet. "The prisoner is dead, because L knew his name…but…Kira does not know that for a fact."

Steve yawned, wearing a sodden expression. He looked bored and uncomfortable.

"He might think, we are playing games with him. We can use that to our advantage, and…"

"What do you mean WE?" Steve broke him off, looking attentive now.

"Forgive my rudeness Steve, I, if that is okay with you?" Gevanni said, pulling a fake sorry look.

"Humph." Steve looked away.

"You were called here to look at the crowd, and tell me which one is Takada."

"What?" Steve asked, looking at Gevanni in disbelief.

"You heard me. She might have come here to kill you off, but I am sure Raito does not know of her plans. I am guessing she is posing as one of the funeral organizers," Gevanni said, smiling at Steve.

"Are you CRAZY?" Steve said, raising his voice again.

"No need to overreact Steve." Gevanni took a few steps for the table, pulling out a mask from a bag just like the one Steve was holding. "I told you, she is here. And she probably thinks you work for L."

Steve was quiet, standing silently under the tent-like structure with Gevanni, and just two other priestesses. The others had already left.

"You just need to look at the women. I am sure, with your expertise it will not be a problem." Gevanni turned around, looking at Steve. "You can leave afterwards. It is just that simple."

Steve was giving Gevanni the tight-lipped silence. He pulled his eyes up, and glanced at the glimpsing window of the office just behind the tree. "Fine," he agreed grudgingly.

"Good, but make sure you put on that mask, and pull up your hoodie as well," Gevanni said, putting on the mask. "We do not want Takada to see your lovely red hair, now do we?"

"Whatever." Steve stared at the mask, and then he looked outside at the drizzle.

"By the way Steve," Radha asked, "how do you know Japanese?"

Steve looked at her for a second, and then quickly put the mask on his face. "I once gave a Japanese woman amazing oral sex. She liked it so much, that she taught me her language," he said sarcastically.

"Really?" Radha asked, fully convinced.

"Are you HIGH?" Steve said angrily, pulling the hoodie over his head. He grumbled something, and stormed out of the tent.

"He is half Japanese from his mother, and father's side," Gevanni explained, walking hastily out of the tent behind Steve, followed by Radha and the last quiet priestess.

"What about his red hair, and green eyes then?" Radha asked, walking with difficulty over the sodden grass.

"His mother is half-Irish," Gevanni whispered, standing quietly next to the Steve, who was still grumbling. Gevanni's eyes were on Raito, who had just cast a brief glance his way. He did not look interested.

A couple of people, men and women gathered around the grave, as the coffin was slowly being lowered into the grave. The priestesses sat quietly around the grave, offering prayers in a still small voice.

Raito stood behind the SPK. But today he did not need a spare, clever façade to hide his glee and joy. Today the expressions flowed freely over his face. There was no flicker of anger, or hatred, nor joy or excitement. It was a flare of all of them, blazing in his eyes, and twisting his features behind the fox mask.

"Farewell L. We shall probably never meet again," he said softly, smiling to himself under the drizzle, and midst so many sounds.

"Raito," a voice said softly.

Raito's eyes stretched wide, and his heart raced painfully. Cool sweat rolled down his face.

His lips trembled, as he opened them to say something. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

Matsuda looked over his shoulder, and squinted through the tiny slits, then he looked ahead.

"Mikami told me, you needed some help." The woman's voice was so low, that it was close to a soft whisper.

Raito clenched his fists, and teeth. "That bastard," he spat angrily, keeping a bit of sound in his throat.

"I am sorry Raito. I did not come here on a whim," the woman lied, looking at the tall man standing just across the grave. His clothes were a bit too casual for the occasion. His fair skin, and carelessness were alluding to something… _Could he be?_

"Takada, get out of here, before Gevanni realizes that there is one extra member in the group." Raito stepped back, holding Takada's arm in an iron fist.

"I," Takada broke off, shuddering under his hold. She had yet to tell him about the death note. "I...I had seen a red-haired man with the girl you mentioned," she said, her voice broken with stress.

Raito held on to her every word. His ears were cocked, and eyes ran over the masked faces. _"Are they looking at me? At us?"_ the thought ran wildly through his stressed mind. Sweat felt like a large stream, cascading down his nape… Those eyes, that look of his eyes, it was chocking the life out of him.

"He introduced himself as Luke, when he came to my office…to…to…" she repeated tensely.

Raito was loosing his patience. "To what?" he asked, firming his hold on her arm, as he took another slow step back, dragging Takada and himself behind the mass of people in front.

Takada pressed her hand to her chest, and braced herself. "He had interviewed me…two or three times," she said awkwardly as if someone was chocking her.

Raito turned his eyes at her. Her nervousness ran like a wild current on her skin. She was trembling with fear.

"What do you mean, interview?" he asked through clenched teeth, squeezing her arm.

"I…I was going to tell you, but, you were busy." Takada took a shaky breath. "He looked a bit close to Radha, so I realized he could be working for L too, like you told me yesterday," she explained, darting her eyes around frantically in search of the red-haired, beautiful man, who had managed to use and discard her so easily.

Raito sniffed the mask's, musky smell. "You never bothered to tell me this yesterday," he said, getting an intense vibe that she was hiding something dreadful.

Takada remained silent, putting her hand on Raito's fingers curled around her arm. "You said Gevanni was alive," she said, regaining a bit of confidence, "so he could be too."

Raito was just listening now… Listening to the sounds of the small stream's still surface, broken by the light drizzle. The humming sound of the priestesses, and the whispers of the police force rising up in the damp air. But all his focus was on Takada's soft, whispery voice. The words were coming out of her lips slowly, and cautiously. She had never spoken this way, not even when they were intimate.

L turned out to be cleverer than he imagined. He had used the girl Radha as Misa's assistant, which was a skilful move. To dig out as much as possible from Misa, and only god knew how much Radha had managed to fish out of her pea-sized brain. But Luke… as an interviewer? Somehow he was not buying it. Takada was lying.

"You are lying." Raito's face tensed, and he squeezed Takada's arm a bit more, wrenching a soft hiss out of her.

She stepped back, catching her footing on the soggy grass. "What do you mean Raito? I have told you everything."

"I will deal with you later," Raito said, releasing his hold suddenly. "What have you asked Mikami to do?" he asked, craning his neck to relax his muscles.

She rubbed her arm. "He is sitting in the tower…with binoculars. If he spots anyone close to Steve's description, he will kill him." Her voice trailed off.

Raito turned his eyes slightly to look at the huge tower, standing next to the old library. "Did you manage to find any tape?"

"No. We had no security cameras in the building…just like you had asked," she said after a short pause.

Raito wanted to face-palm himself. This move had bitten him on his own ass. He had asked Takada not to install any cameras in her office, or at the building. The way L was snooping around, his meeting secrets would have been easily exposed…now he wished he had decided against it.

But Radha had managed to delete all the tapes as well. The loss of L's life was now just a small victory to Raito. Even if L was dead, he had managed to poison his mind and body. It would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to it, and died shamefully. But if Gevanni had all the evidence, why was he still walking free?

Raito relaxed his bent brow, calming his raging temper. Gevanni had no evidence, as to how the death gods worked. As long as the books stayed with him, he was still a free man.

"It is done," Raito said, looking at the covered hole, below which was L's corpse, rotting six feet under. "Get into the organizers group, and leave. Gevanni has yet to realize anything."

"But…"

"Just leave," Raito cut her off harshly, "If Steve is alive, then Mikami will take care of it."

Takada said nothing. She slowly turned around and started pacing for the small group standing just behind her.

Steve chuckled behind the mask, running his eyes over the two fine, but wobbly legs.

"I am assuming, you have found Takada," Gevanni said, looking at Raito standing behind the long uneven curtain of people.

Steve licked his lips. "Oh yes."

Gevanni asked quickly, "are you sure?"

"Of course I am," he replied softly. "See that woman…the one wearing the black skirt, and pure white shirt."

Gevanni's eyes swept over the area, resting on a woman who looked quite tall.

"That's her." There was a strange sensation of lust and hunger in his voice.

Gevanni looked at her intently, as she mixed into the small group. "She looks a bit tall for Takada."

"Do you have buttons for eyes? Look at her feet."

Gevanni's eyes followed Steve's command, resting on black heels that could not be an inch shorter than Five. "Make sure it is the same person. You have to be hundred percent sure, because just looking at her naked legs…"

"Her naked legs?" Steve turned his chuckle into a soft, boyish laugh. "There isn't anything on her body that I haven't seen. I am telling you, that is Takada, there is no mistaking it."

"Good for you." Gevanni turned on his heels, followed by Steve and a few priestesses. The funeral ceremony was over.

Mikami sat desolate in the tower, looking down at the church and a few birds obstructing his view. His pen was put on the open death note, ready and alive like a deadly animal waiting to pick off his targets from a distance.

But that moment of joy, his return of Kira's kindness never came. A black van rolled down the road, carrying a couple of people. It turned into a corner and vanished from sight. He kept looking at the entrance through the binoculars, but no face came into sight…_Was it all preplanned?_

He put down the binoculars, putting on a worried expression that hovered still in his eyes, "Kami will be angry," he sighed out, and left the tower.

Takada stood waiting, standing behind a long line of people, _what was going on?_

Her heart was beating fast. Something was wrong, she could feel it. A strange perfumery smell wafted to her. She turned her head, and saw the same casually dressed masked man standing close to her.

"This is for you." He held out two fingers, holding a small folded paper between them.

Takada took the paper from him, and watched him leave with the priestesses. His voice, it was so familiar. There was a strange allure to it.

She opened the paper. The lines left her defeated.

_You were so good…you really have no idea._

_But no hard feelings, because I greatly __enjoyed __our times together._

_Your loving reporter,_

_Luke_

"Miss," Gevanni said loudly, "kindly remove your mask."

"Huh?" Takada looked at him absentmindedly.

"I said, remove your mask," Gevanni said, urgently holding out a hand for her.

The paper fell from her hand, but she did not bother to look down, instead her eyes searched for Raito who was standing two feet from her. He was quiet…

"We do not have time," he said, pulling the mask off her face.

"Miss Takada? What are you doing here?" Gevanni asked her calmly, thanking Steve's eccentric X-Ray capabilities on the inside.

Takada was silent, looking at the slits on the masks. _Who were they?_ Maybe Mikami could kill them, and she would be saved.

"You were not on the organizers list," Gevanni said in a deep, accusing voice, holding a list in his hand. "I am afraid you will have to come with us."

Raito's heart skipped several beats. Takada was dragged into a car, and there was nothing he could do…It was over.

I was not going to add Steve into this chapter, but the way I wanted to get Takada captured, it was not possible without him. So, I am not responsible if anyone got annoyed. But anyways, I am hoping that it was a decent chapter.


	16. Chapter 16: A Look into the Afterlife

**Chapter Sixteen**: A Look into the Afterlife

"The perks of being god of the new world." Raito's brain was left in a messy muddle, as he looked at the magic mirror, and the miserable looking Takada sitting alone in the small room.

L had managed to beat him at his own game, even after his death. He turned out to be the skillful bastard in the mind games they played with each other. L had the upper hand now.

"Shameful…Shameful," the words rang out in the self-proclaimed god's mind. He turned his head away, hiding the contortions of his angry face. What was he to do now? Drop down on his knees, and beg Gevanni to let her go? Plead before him in the name of all things holy? His over-inflated ego just wouldn't allow that.

He turned his hazel eyes at the clatter of silver spoon. Gevanni was taking small sips from the cup. Stirring the sugar he had just added moments ago, rather nosily. His face had a strange smug look to it, and his lips were subtly stretched into a victory smile.

Raito hated it. He wanted to gouge out his gleaming eyes, and rip the curved lips off his hideously happy face and then paste them upside down. Maybe that would probably give him a sad look.

Gevanni, unaware of Raito's boiling temper had his gaze set on Takada. Her eyes flicked from corner to corner in search of something. Her usually glossy hair was ruffled up, and messy. She looked like an epitome of a total mess, after Gevanni had subjected her to a ruthless lecture about L's funeral just moments ago.

Behind Gevanni stood Matsuda. He was confused, and his face was growing tense. He looked as if he was about to die of constipation. Soichiri and Aizawa were quiet, and like the rest, their eyes were fixed on Takada and her utter misery.

Gevanni sighed out, and took another sip from the cup. He was eyed furiously by Raito. He turned his eyes, and sent a subtle smirk Raito's way, which was met with no apparent response from Raito. But on the inside, Raito's raging temper had flared to its limit; his heart was racing and beating in his throat.

"Should we start?" Gevanni asked the mesmerized Matsuda lazily.

Matsuda kept staring at the mirror in disbelief. He was standing so close to the mirror that his nose was just an inch away from getting squashed up against it.

"Matsuda-San?" Gevanni raised his voice. "I said, should we start?" he repeated, watching Matsuda's startled jump, and the growing sheepish grin on his face.

"Yes, Gevanni-San, but," Matsuda began, looking typically confused.

"For the last time Matsuda-San, Raito will not question Miss Takada." Gevanni thumped the cup down on the table, stealing a furious look at Raito.

Matsuda awkwardly filled the chair next to Gevanni, and took the tiny laptop in his hands. "I was just thinking, that maybe…"

"Maybe nothing," Gevanni broke him off, pressing the on button on the microphone L was so fond of using. "We have gone through this plenty of times. Miss Takada does not need to know that Raito is involved in this."

"I suppose." Matsuda hung his head in sadness, and pulled the laptop onto his lap.

"Good." Gevanni hunched over the table, casting a curious glance at Raito's pokerfaced indifference.

Raito remained tightlipped. Sweeping his eyes across the room, looking at every tense face for just a second, he brought them on Takada again. But he did not understand. _Why was she there?_ This thought was driving him mad.

Raito lowered his piercing gaze to the floor, and looked at the small slits in the tufted carpet. He raised his hand, and stared resolutely at his wristwatch. _He could kill her now, if he wanted to. _

"No," he reasoned with himself, "this will be a foolish decision". His eyes found Gevanni again, and a burst of hatred just possessed him instantly. Gevanni was dangling Takada in front of him on purpose, but he will not let up that easily.

"She is one of Kira's supporters," Aizawa began heavily, "her being there today is more than just a coincidence."

Soichiri nodded in approval. "I think we should proceed cautiously with this."

"I agree," Gevanni said from across the room, "I think…"

"I think we should get to the point with her," Raito said, lowering his hand.

Gevanni looked at him for a second, and said, "what do you have in mind then?" His voice had a note of mockery.

"How much does he know?" Raito thought at the sight of that look Gevanni had been wearing ever since he caught Takada. "It's simple, there is a very small chance that she is not involved. I mean, her being there on the day of the funeral," he said, wearing a calm look.

"What is he exactly up to?" Gevanni said to himself, meeting Raito's deadpan eyes. It appeared that he had managed to learn a bit of something from L, even if it was just few of the blank expressions.

Soichiri cupped his chin thoughtfully. His face was covered with lines of age, and the burden of SPK's work. "This should be the best approach," he said, looking over to his son, who was smiling back him.

"It is good that we all agree on something for a change," Gevanni said, looking at Raito. He shifted a little on his chair, and pressed the large black button down. Takada's head jerked up at the sound of sharp static that filled the room.

"Miss Takada…" the sharp voice came through the speaker hanging at the corner of the room.

"Y-yes," she spluttered, looking directly at the mirror. It showed her, her own reflection.

"Can you tell me, what were you doing at the funeral?" Gevanni asked slowly, watching Takada scratch her left leg, and lower her eyes.

Moments passed, but only silence followed the static sounds.

"Miss Takada, I think I have just asked you something."

Next to Gevanni, Matsuda typed away on his laptop frantically to record Takada's statements. He turned his head at Gevanni, waiting for him to say something.

Takada put her hand on her mouth, and coughed violently. She had done all she could to come prepared, just in case if something went wrong, but will she be able to get out of here?

"Miss Takada?" Gevanni raised his voice, and turned his head slightly at Matsuda who was typing like a lunatic. "I have told you to type everything important down, not add self-made comments," he said, casting his gaze down a one paragraph description of Takada's skirt, and her hair.

"Sorry." Matsuda smiled shamefacedly, and hastily deleted all his hard work.

Gevanni gave Matsuda a sidelong don't-you-dare glance, and looked ahead again. Takada was still sitting quietly. Her right hand was pressed to her chest, and she seemed to be wheezing noisily.

Raito clenched his jaw, and narrowed his eyes on Takada. "This stupid woman." He couldn't even think of anything else to say to himself. He could not believe it, had she absolutely nothing to say in her defense?

Perhaps he was wrong about her so-called intelligence. Even Misa was clever enough to keep the ball rolling for as long as she could. How could he have been so easily fooled into believing her accidental, and fleeting brainy abilities?

A dribble of sweat ran down his face. He did not know what to do; look away, or keep looking at the mess Takada had created for him. But his eyes pulled to her, and he drew in a sharp breath to keep himself prepared for what was to come.

Gevanni was quiet. A minute had already passed, but silence had refused to leave the room. He slipped his one leg over the other and sat calmly, watching Takada's obvious actions.

Takada fished a handkerchief out of her pocket, and started dabbing at her tear filled eyes. Her face was clouded over by confusion, and fear. A whiff of danger was in the air, but today luck was on her side.

Gevanni leaned over the table again. "Miss, you are comfortable, so there is no need to be afraid," he said, turning his harsh voice into a calm whisper, which unfortunately exploded out as just another sharp sound on the other side. "Now let's try this again," he sighed out, "what were you doing at the funeral?"

Takada mustered up her courage and strength, and took in the room's stale air. "I was there to meet a friend."

Raito's nose wrinkled on his contorted face. "Is this the best she can come up with?" he thought, cursing the day he had decided to make this woman a part of his plans.

"A friend?" Gevanni said, his expression and voice suggested his show of mockery, "on the day of the funeral?"

Aizawa let out a soft laugh. "This is absurd."

Next to him, Soichiri looked just as unconvinced.

"Yes," Takada said boldly, sitting up straight.

Raito looked on this silly little shenanigan she had decided to pull off against him. He stood behind the team, and the sounds of pre-mature victory. His gaze had slid over her face, which was strangely confident now. Had she finally thought of something intelligent, and witty to say, just to humour him?

He flicked his wrist, and looked at the time. Thirty minutes had passed by, and there was still no hope of getting out of this. He cocked his eyes at her face, and took on a resolute expression. He was a juggernaut, a will of the new world. If it would come to a bitter end, then he will kill her, and make it appear as suicide…

"It was all too easy," his inner voice sneered, and his lips stretched to feel power flowing like raw lust in his veins.

"How so?" Gevanni continued in a chilly sarcastic voice.

Takada heavily breathed for a moment. "I support Kira, so I tend to gather many followers for the show."

"That's quite admirable, but you did not find any other day to…"

"My friend was in France for holiday, and when she came back, I decided to corner her on her first day of the job," Takada said confidently, looking straight into the mirror.

"First day of the job?" Gevanni asked in a fake voice that hinted at disbelief.

"Yes." Takada clasped the white handkerchief in her left hand. "She used to work in an advertising firm…but got fired because of an affair with her boss's son," she said, lowering her eyes just a little to look at the sharp edges of the mirror.

"And I suppose we should believe this saucy romance story?" Gevanni said, looking stern and angry.

"You can believe what you want," she paused, her gaze flashing with anger, as if tearing through the glass and sliver within the mirror, "I had nothing to do with L's death."

"Right, because people like you who support a crazed mass murderer can never lend him a helping hand?"

Gevanni's words fell over Raito like a sprinkle of burning acid. His skin trembled, and his teeth clenched with anger.

"A mass murderer?" Raito's mind repeated, and his eyes sent a pure look of death Gevanni's way.

"Have you abducted me for some long lecture? Because I am clearly not interested in L, or his achievements," she said angrily, and looked away.

"Please, there is no need for this ridiculous show," Gevanni said, holding the long end of the mike tightly in his hand. "Just give us the details, and you can go…if you are not involved in this of course."

Takada turned her head at the sound. "You can call my friend and confirm it if you want, and you can check me as well, if you think I am hiding something magical which Kira so fondly uses," she finished with an air of bitter sarcasm.

"She's overly confident," Aizawa said dully, flopping down into a chair.

Gevanni bit back several hundred accusatory words against Raito. He turned his head, and looked at Matsuda still busy in typing what Aizawa had just said. "I think we need to bring her friend into custody. If the stories match, then we have no reason to hold her."

A subtle look of victory flashed across Raito's face. "But L did keep Misa locked up, why not her then?" he asked, knowing what Gevanni was going to say.

Gevanni brought his eyes on Raito now. He held his piercing blue gaze, and tried to look at something, anything unusual about the man who called himself Kira behind this decent façade. But he found nothing.

Soichiri unfolded his arms. "This is different Raito."

"How so father? She supports kira, so she is a criminal after all," Raito said, thrusting his hand in his pockets… his eyes stretched slightly when his fingers touched a paper in his pocket.

"That is not the point." Soichiri sat down next to Aizawa with a long sigh. "It is because she is the supporter of Kira that we cannot keep her here."

Aizawa nodded. "Think of the riots that will follow. There seem to be a lot of supporters for this criminal, and her."

Gevanni got to his feet without saying a word. "I am going inside to check her clothes. If she has anything unusual with her, I am keeping her for interrogation."

"Wait." Matsuda jumped up. "Put this on." He handed the mask to Gevanni.

Gevanni turned around, and walked for the door, putting the mask on to hide his face. When he stepped in, Takada looked at him and got to her feet.

"I am here to check your clothes. The longer you resist, the longer you will stay here, understand?" Gevanni said in a clear voice.

Takada stood silently, and removed her heels, while Gevanni checked her pockets, and pressed his hands on her breasts, waist, and hips, and even between her crouch. He passed his hands over, and between her legs, and thighs, and finally shoved his hands in her black skirt's only pocket.

Raito's heart completely froze. If she had brought a page with her, then he will have to kill her… But it would put the entire blame on him… _Damn it._ He did not know what to do. So many thoughts were rushing through his mind. The whole world was spinning, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

He clutched his stomach, and let out a long sigh, feeling the fluids travel up to his mouth…_how humiliating_.

Gevanni backed away, looking at Takada. "I am keeping you here as long as I do not confirm your stories."

"They are not," Takada began angrily.

"If they turn out to be true, you can go," he said, stretching his neck to meet her brown eyes. "But if they do not, then be prepared for some nice surprises here. Because I will do more than just groping next time."

Takada kept staring at his sharp blue eyes. She flopped down onto the chair, and saw Gevanni leave through the door.

A feeling of relief stole over Raito. Takada had played her part right. He looked at the team, who had got into a friendly huddle to discuss Miss Takada, and produced the paper from his pocket.

Gevanni walked out of the office, leaving the team in confusion, and Raito to celebrate his victory. Somehow, Takada had managed to slip the death note page in his pocket. He smiled to himself, and shoved it back in.

L was lying alone on the gritty sand. He opened his eyes, and got greeted by a strange grey sky empty of any clouds. He sat up lazily, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. His clothes were the same, but somehow this was not the same place.

He turned his head, and fixed his eyes on the large black ocean, and the ebbing tides. It was silent, and the waves crashing on the rocks sounded distant, too distant. A strange aroma wafted to him from across the ocean.

Where was he?


	17. Chapter 17: Black and White in Purgatory

**Chapter seventeen**: Black and White in Purgatory

Clasped by the grayish light, L sat alone on the deserted island. His knees were curled up in front of him, and he had his arms wrapped around them. It was a strange feeling of loneliness, and despair that had saturated the dense air around him.

The air was moving, slowing and steadily. It hissed a little when it moved past his ears, disturbing his ruffled hair just a little more. His dark eyes looked dead behind the bangs, whipping across his forehead.

Wherever he looked no eyes stared back at him…nothing but empty, grayish space. He turned his eyes around, looking at the strange dark grey sun hanging just a little above the far end of the black ocean, which separated him from what lied beyond.

The ocean was strangely calm, and at peace somehow. Its waves lazily dragged the tiny pebbles back into the giant, limitless blackness. The ebb and flow of waves, the stillness of the ocean, the silence around him…It was driving him mad.

Slowly, he gathered himself to a proper sitting position, and for the first time pulled his shoulders back. He got to his feet, looking around, searching for any soul, anything alive, but nothing caught his searching eyes.

L squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. Looking through the disappearing haze, his eyes found the grayness again. _Have I gone colour blind?_ He thought in full desperation. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at the far end of the large black ocean that looked like black ink pooled in a huge trench.

He craned his head, lifting his black eyes skyward. It was just as hazy and gray. Patches of something dark grayish, and fluffy was streaked like long thin lines on the grey, empty sky. Flecks of light grey light were bursting through the gaps in the clouds. It was hardly a welcoming scenery.

Everything looked so…He could bring himself to say it, or even think about it. His mind, his life just would not register where he was, and where did he come from. His parched lips were painfully dry, and cracked at several places. He felt thirsty, alone, and even afraid.

But he had to say it; he had to admit it to himself. He opened his lips, drawing the air in, and feeling it give a sensation of energy to his being.

He looked ahead at the dark, black ocean. "Everything...looks so…" he stopped, but his wild heart began to pound in his chest. He took several steps, and walked closer to the ocean, feeling the icy cold waves splash on his naked feet. "Everything looks so…dead."

His words came out whispery and soft, disappearing into the air forever.

"Tell me the truth Takada." Raito grabbed hold of Takada's arm. "Tell me the truth Damn it. What were you doing at the funeral?"

"I have told you before…Raito-kun…I-I was there to kill him off, for you," Takada said, holding back the remaining tears still swimming in her eyes.

"It's a good thing your friend is a kira supporter." Raito released his hold, talking as if he was having a conversation with himself. "Who knows what could have happened if she had said otherwise," he said, looking angrily at Takada.

Takada did not answer. She had nothing to say to ease his suspicions. Her gaze moved around, avoiding Raito's eyes that were still menacingly settled on her.

"Am I hitting my head against a brick wall here?" Raito said with a wide wave of his arm.

"W-what…No Raito. I have told you everything time and time again. What do you want to hear from me?" Takada said, taking a step back.

"You listen to me." Raito inched closer, pointing his finger at her. "I am not buying this story of yours that you just decided to go in for the kill, without discussing anything with me."

Takada pressed her lips together, crossing her arms in distress.

"And involving Mikami." He raised his hands in air. "Of all the people, you had to bring him into this." He eased towards her, his face contorted with anger. "Why? Why would you ask Mikami to do this for you, when you could have done it yourself?" His expressions had turned into a more accusatory look.

"Why are you being so suspicious?" she said, uncrossing her arms and looking Raito straight in the eyes. "So what if I asked him to help me. Doesn't he always help us?"

"You slipped me a piece of your own death note. The one I had given you, before I handed over the whole damn book to you." Raito shoved his hands in his coat, not taking his eyes off Takada.

Takada turned her eyes a little at Ryuk, floating his way in through the wall. His face was still the same with that ugly smile, and huge golf ball sized yellow eyes.

"There aren't any bugs in her apartment, or in yours," Ryuk informed, hovering over Raito. He looked as unpleasant as one of those ugly spirits plucked straight out of a Japanese horror movie.

"I will feed you apples later Ryuk," Raito said, cheering up the Shinigami who looked hideously happy as usual.

"Buy me those red ones," Ryuk said, catching a flicker of dissatisfaction on Raito's face. "They are so delicious." He sprawled out his legs in air, as if he had walked all over to Takada's place, and now needed a bit of yoga to ease his hurting old joints.

"Yes Ryuk, I know you like them, because an appetite of something dead comes first, and my wallet later," Raito said sarcastically, pushing his light-brown bangs back.

"Who are you calling dead?" Ryuk sat up in air, looking curiously down at Raito.

"I forgot to say god Ryuk," Raito said, frowning up at his Shinigami.

Ryuk strained himself, and his brain for a second. "No no no Raito," he said, sounding scholarly, "it is death god, not dead god."

"Forgive me Ryuk, how incredibly stupid of me," Raito said to the eternally amused death god, looking up at the frozen-misery inflicted by the timeless life on his cringe-worthy happy face.

Ryuk gave his crackling, spluttering chuckle. "You can be so cheeky sometimes Raito," He said with a three sixty degree roll in the air.

"Right," Raito said, rolling his eyes. He brought his attention back to Takada. "You should give the death note to me for the time being. I think Gevanni knows much more than he is giving away," he ended thoughtfully.

Takada's face broke out in sweat. Her hairs stood up straight, and fear clutched her in its powerful hold. "What am I going to tell him now?" she thought, gulping in air to ease off a little pain rising in her chest.

"Why on earth are you so spacey?" Raito asked, bending his brow.

"Huh," Takada gasped out absentmindedly.

"The death note Takada," Raito said, shaking his hand close to her face, "I want it. Gevanni probably suspects you. If he pulls off this move again, I want the book with me."

"Why? He could have checked this office if he wanted to, but he didn't," Takada said, sensing fear swallowing her whole.

Raito stared at her for a second. "Ryuk, go and get the death note."

Ryuk looked at Takada, and stretched his lips just a little more. He dragged himself up, along with his dangling, spidery thin legs, and gave a lazy flap of his batty wings.

"Wait," Takada gasped out. Her lips trembled, and her whole body shook a little, as if some one was passing a bit of current through it.

Red colour rose in Raito's cheeks, and his face twisted with anger. "You don't have it, do you?" he hissed, clenching his fists.

Takada's face was running with sweat. A cascade of tears ran down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself, and shook her head a little.

Raito fisted his hair in rage, and smashed a vase sitting on the table with the swipe of his hand. Takada staggered back, trembling from head to toe. He struck towards her with lightening speed, and grabbed her arm.

"Luke has it, doesn't he? DOESN'T HE?" Raito screamed, jerking her arm.

Takada sobbed, wiping her tears with her palm. "Y-yes," she chocked out, clutching her chest.

Raito gave a wounded, loud laugh. "You have ruined everything," he said, letting go of her arm.

"It's not my fault…I-I just fell in love with him," Takada said, burying her face in her hands.

Raito looked at her, shocked. He had lingering doubts that she had managed to slip the location of death note, by succumbing to some sexual attraction, but this revelation still managed to hit him harder than a wall of bricks.

"What?" Raito asked, looking a little more than stunned.

Takada took a few shaky breaths, and ventured a reply, "he said he was doing this kira project, and wanted to interview me about it."

Raito turned fully to face her; face the woman who had flushed his best laid plans down the toilet in one single moment of weakness. He could not bear to listen to what more shocking surprises she had been saving up for him all this time.

"He was just so beautiful…so kind, and gentle. I never thought he would have some motive behind all this," she ended with another noisy sob, thinking about those pools of red, silky hair flopping over his emerald green eyes, and those beautiful ethereal features of his… She really was so easily fooled.

"Beautiful, huh?" Raito sighed out in mockery, looking across at Takada who was crying uncontrollably, but he felt not a shred of sympathy for her.

Takada lifted her head up timidly, running her eyes over Raito's handsome face, that now, clouded under so much anger looked anything but. His nose was flared, and thin long lines of anger ran like small furrows on his forehead.

"Raito, I am sorry. I admit it, it's my fault, but…but I swear, I will make it up to you." Takada clamped his shoulder, sweating profusely in the warm room.

Ryuk was looking down at them both, with his round yellowish eyes stretched out to their limit. They looked like small, alien saucers pasted above his slit like thin nose, and red lips. His getup screamed Goth fashion gone wrong. His face suggested nothing. Either he was amused, or just too bored for apples; it was clearly hard to tell.

"Make it up to me?" Raito's voiced was saturated with mockery. "And how is that?"

Takada's breath came out in short, quick sobs. She pulled her hand back, and clasped her fingers together, looking at Raito pleadingly for some mercy. She leaned her back against the wall, feeling her weak legs giving up on her.

"Tell me something." He inched closer, forcing the full force of his deep voice on her. "How many times did you let him, fuck you? Tell me, I am curious."

Takada found herself cornered. Her back was pressed against the wall, and Raito stood close to her, his hands on the wall, and his face leaning over hers. This reminded her of their time together once, when he would come to her apartment, and they would engage in the art of passion. If it was not for his chilly behaviour, this never would have happened.

"I don't remember." Takada's voice came out clear, and bold.

Raito gave a soft huh, with an air of sarcasm around him. "Really? So he did you so many times, that you have actually forgotten the count?" he paused, looking up at the painting.

"Yes, I have forgotten how many times he fucked me," Takada said, turning her slightly scared voice into something bold, and anger filled.

Raito brought his gaze down on her. "I am actually amazed. I mean, was he really that good that you managed to forget all about L, and all those damned things I kept beating into your head … which I am sure you must have found quite time wasting."

Takada silently watched him, as he backed away and paced a few feet away from her. He stood close to the table, flicking his right wrist, looking at the wristwatch move over his wrist.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" he said slowly, looking away from her.

Takada limped towards him, "Raito, I will find him, I promise."

Raito turned his head at her, and gave her a surprised look. "You could not even keep your legs closed, and you want me to believe that you will catch that guy, who managed to steal a full book without your knowledge?"

Takada said nothing in her defense. There was little chance of finding him, but she wanted to save her skin, at least for the time being.

"What about the pages? Did he manage to take them along with himself as well?" he asked, staring incredulously at her silence. "You managed to let those get stolen as well?"

Takada lowered her head, feeling the sobs that shook her now.

Raito whipped out the death note page suddenly. Seeing this Takada slumped down on the floor, and grabbed his leg.

"Raito please," she cried bitterly, clawing at his jeans, "please, don't do this."

Raito was breathing heavily. His fingers were trembling. One of the pages that Gevanni had with himself was his. How could this woman become the reason for his fall? How could he have been so stupid?

Raito's lips trembled, and his catching breath was hurting his throat. "If I kill you now, all the blame will be put on me," he said throatily, standing with the small piece of death clenched in his hand.

Takada looked up at him, sensing a small ray of hope for her failing life.

"I will discuss this later with you." He wrenched his leg free from her, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Takada was left alone in the room, to mull over the burden wrenching at her mind and heart.

Ryuk cackled a little. "What a scary guy," he said, flying out of the room behind Raito.

L looked around again, sweeping his gaze across the emptiness around him. It was all black and white around him. It looked as if someone had put him in a monochrome world.

All the colours of life had been drained from around him. The dead sky, the black sea, the silence all around him wrenched his mind back to the pressing question, where was he? How did he get here, and who was he? He did not know.

"What is my name?" he questioned himself slowly, watching a few puffs of warm air disappear into the circling chilliness.

He lifted his foot lazily, and trudged into the blackness. His feet were heavy from some strange burden, but somehow he found himself being pushed back towards the small piece of dry land.

The water was stronger than it looked. Two waves crashed on L, and he was thrown backwards into the shallow pebble filled water. L sat up, looking down at the silvery pebbles shinning like silver under the grayish water. He put his hand in water, and scooped a few of them in his hand.

His skin, though pale, shone beautifully. It looked alive behind the grey water. He threw the pebbles back in the water, and pulled himself to his feet. Raising his hands, L looked at them lost in thought.

L was alive, but everything around him had died. His skin, his entire being, felt very much alive. But what had brought him here? All those strange questions were hurting his mind. Suddenly, a sharp pain rose in his heart. He clutched his chest instinctively, feeling himself get enveloped by immense pain.

A few drops of something red dribbled into the water. The grayish hew disappeared, leaving behind crystal clear water that sparkled with something red floating under it like little rubies. L unclenched his red fingers. A thin stream of reddish liquid was running down his right arm.

L looked at his shirt. The left side was soaking red, as if someone had splashed something over it carelessly. He looked down, staring at the young man's reflection. Two fine, red lines were moving down from the eyes.

He lazily touched his cheeks, collecting a few drops of tears on his fingers tips. He was crying…he was crying tears of blood.

The pain, the reflection still looking back at him from beyond the murky surface of the water…it made him realize something.

"I am dead," his trembling lips whispered, and the pain in his heart rose a little, "I really am dead."

**Comments**: I am not sure whether anyone found this heart wrecking or not, but I wanted to make this chapter depressing, to add more significance to L's death.

Please leave a line or two, because reviews boost any author's confidence, and I am no different.


	18. Chapter 18: A Real Dream

**Comments**: I intended to make this chapter as short as possible, as it will trigger the start of the final ark of this story. Enjoy and leave comments, or private-messages.

**Warning**: Mature sexual content, which includes rape, oral sex, and sex.

**Chapter Eighteen**: A Real Dream

Under the veil of darkness sat the death god, who was ever so bored of his world. Ryuk looked down at the narrow alleyway, and the young couple making out under the cloak of shadows.

From his perch on top of the apartment building's roof, the two lovers looked so small. They kissed freely, and passionately; locking their lips, twisting their tongues, and sighing as people passed by, unaware of their little bliss.

Ryuk stretched out his leathery feathers, and crunched his teeth into the lush, red apple clasped in his bony hand. His long, spidery fingers looked as if they belonged to a dead person. The grayish, almost dead flesh stretched over his bones was sickly, and cracked.

But he did not care for his appearance; those were the troubles of humans. Why would it bother him? It never did… His yellow eyes shone under the glance of the moonlight. Night had clasped the world around him hours ago, and the art of war and making love had begun.

Ryuk cocked his ears at the crack of a gun shot miles from him. No one could hear it, but he could. The streets bursting with people remained unchanged, but another life had ended.

"Humans are so amusing," he said, sinking his teeth into the apple again. Its juices streaked down his grey, smiling face.

He loved it; the taste of the apple, its delicious juices, and the blood like colour. It was the ambrosia of this world.

"A forbidden fruit," he thought, eyeing the half eaten apple rolling in the palm of his hand.

A scream of a woman wafted to him from a couple of blocks away. He turned his head, looking at the woman get dragged down to the wet ground by a young man, at the very end of the alley way.

In the shroud of darkness in the alley, he lustily opened the fly of his pants, and pressed himself down on the woman thrashing about under him. She screamed, and screamed until he stifled her noises with his hand.

Ryuk's eyes ran over her breasts hanging out of her ripped shirt, the tip of her nipple, and the way he graced it with his tongue and kisses. How the soft skin there rippled, and moved when he began thrusting into her.

Ryuk found this amusing. He smiled, hanging his head low to look at the scene created by these two in the city full of humans, and their lust for what is forbidden.

Her whole body moved on the wet ground, leaving tears in her eyes. But the young man looked gratified. His face was drenched in lust, and his fluttering eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

How different the humans were…how the forbidden fruit changed them.

"Humans really are very strange," he said thoughtfully, throwing the apple's stem in the air.

Raito had asked him to leave him be today. Strangely enough, the young self-proclaimed mortal god was in a good mood today. He had responded eagerly to Misa's sexual advances in the wake of some devious plan he had made with Mikami.

Ryuk chuckled, raising himself to his feet. He stood on the roof with a great droop to his back. The sounds those two were making only three floors below were strange. Humans found some sort of pleasure in this act they called sex. Ryuk could not understand why. It could not be any better than apples… they tasted great.

But Raito thought otherwise…

Misa arched her back on the bed. Her golden hair spread on the pillow was wet with sweat. She moved her hand down, and combed Raito's silky bangs spread over her inner thighs.

"Raito," she cooed on the bed, squeezing her thighs together.

Raito pulled her thighs apart again, lapping up the taste of her sex. Misa moaned loudly, clenching her sex, and her toes. It had been weeks since Raito got this intimate with her. It was so lonely without him. Finally, L was dead, and now she had Raito all for herself again. It felt good…so good…

And Ryuk could smell Misa's scent now. It was a strange smell; a little sharp, a little mellow, a little musky, and something else swirling in between…Ryuk could not quite put a finger on it.

"_I think apples taste better," Ryuk reasoned, hovering above Raito in the busy shopping street of Tokyo, where vendors sold fruits, and vegetables. _

_Raito sighed out loudly, and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Ryuk was getting nosy again today, and this time, he had decided to bring up the topic of Raito's oral trips down between Misa's legs… he was fucking annoyed of this Shinigami's utterly weird questions, and his strange, almost voyeuristic adventures. _

"_Say something Raito, I am bored," he complained, flying lazily around the young man in short circles. _

_He paid the female vendor, and took almost two dozen apples from her hand. That emptied out his entire wallet. He lazily made his way through the crowd, trying his level best to avoid the Shinigami, whose every action these days greatly grated with him. _

_Ryuk swished over to his side, and hung his head down towards him, maintaining his devilish smile. He was not going away without an answer. _

_Raito rolled his eyes, and wrapped his arms tightly around the paper bag. "Ryuk, I am sorry, I cannot even begin to explain this question," he said, getting irritated of Ryuk's petulance. _

"_I thought you were smart Raito?" Ryuk said in amusement, flashing his smile at him like always. _

_Raito's face contorted with anger. This Shinigami was driving him mad. "Look Ryuk, it's a little more complicated than tasting apples."_

_Ryuk hung his head to his left side, hovering a little higher above the ground. It looked like he was simply moving beside him through the air, without a single flap of his wings. Sometimes his weirdness greatly fascinated him. _

"_How so?" Ryuk asked, his face remained unchanged as always. "I still think apples taste better."_

"_One, I have yet to find a woman who tastes bad when she is fully aroused," he said holding up one finger, "two, I do it because women can be easily coaxed into doing anything… after they are sexually pleased…Now you get it?" he said an acerbic tone, pointing up two fingers. _

_Ryuk jerked his head up, looking confused. "I don't get it," he said, flapping his wings once. _

"_Why would you Ryuk. You just throw around passive aphorisms," Raito said with an air of finality. _

"_Eh?" Ryuk flicked his head down. "I still think apples are better," he persisted, stretching his smile from one ear to the other. _

_Raito, grounding his teeth in annoyance, chose not to reply. _

Raito pounded into Misa with hard thrusts. Misa pulled him closer, clasping her arms around his waist. His back was wet, and the open belt around his hips clicked loudly. Raito's black jeans felt heavy, and hot on his legs, but he was so aroused today that he had decided to get down straight to business.

Misa did not mind that. She was just happy with her love giving her the time of her life. In fact, every time Raito tasted her with his mouth, or slipped her a length… it was heaven. How could he not love her?

His sweaty body slipped over her smoothly. Her nipples standing erect on her round breasts, were caressed with Raito's lips and tongue. A jolt ran through her body, when Raito took one in his mouth. He kissed, licked, and sucked on it. Misa moaned, and sighed. The hardness between her legs, the wetness of her body, Raito's hot kisses… the pleasure had increased ten-fold.

"Misa feels so good," a thought ran through her scrambled mind.

All this attention, all this love…Raito loved her, and she loved him…

"Yes, humans are silly," Ryuk said to himself, rising up in the air.

He flew towards the mountains to meet another one of his partners. A new player was in, and the game had got more amusing.

Raito's eyes fluttered open. Strange scenery loomed into view. He sat up, feeling the chill of the grey earth under him. The entire world around him was grey. He felt his hair trickling down his bare back.

He looked down. His belt was open, and his black jeans felt sweaty, and heavy around his hips.

"What is going on?" he asked himself. His thought sounded louder, as if the world around him had listened to his most secret desires.

Raito dragged himself to his feet. His sex felt strangely hard. An unseen pressure was wrapped around it. He was aroused…so sexually aroused that he felt as if he might explode in his own pants.

He lurched forward at the first shadow that came into view. It stood at a distance, glimpsing like a white lily in the grayish moonlight.

Raito stopped. His heart threw itself wildly against his ribs. Blood pounded in his veins, and his lips trembled.

"R-Ryuzaki?" he wobbled with fear.

He was dead. He could not be alive. Raito had to make sure, so he staggered forward, ignoring the pleasure coiling in his stomach. But he looked so beautiful. Maybe it was his calm face, maybe it was the pearl like colour of his skin, or maybe it was Raito's own overwhelming arousal asking him to do the unthinkable. Raito did not know, but he suddenly felt the urge to kiss him… kiss the man who had given him victory.

Raito walked slowly towards him, feeling the anticipation growing inside of him. It was a burst of excitement tingling his loins, caressing his lips. He wanted to rub his victory in Ryuzaki's face, even if it were to be with his lips, and tongue.

He stopped close to him, looking at the dead detective's downcast eyes. He looked submissive, defeated in death. It was a beautiful expression that had graced his face in silence.

Raito leaned in slowly, capturing L's lips. He did not move, but his lips softly parted under Raito's. Raito pushed his tongue in, relishing the taste of victory. Its taste was tangy, almost rusty. When he moved his tongue, something trickled into his mouth.

Raito jumped back. His hand flew for his lips. He wiped his mouth, and looked at the red drops on his fingers. He brought them close to his nose, and jerked his head up to look at the dead detective bleeding from his mouth. A thin line of blood streaked down his white face.

He staggered back, and spat the blood out of his mouth. His insides ached, and his knees threatened to buckle with exhaustion…what was going on?

Raito looked at a smoky figure standing behind L, coming slowly into view. The figure took the colour of L's skin like a chameleon, and leaned his head on L's shoulder. He looked just like L.

The strange man brought the gaze of his bloody red eyes on Raito, and stretched his lips into a seductive smile. A look of death, and lust danced in his eyes. Suddenly, he sank his teeth into L's nape, drawing blood with great relish.

Raito looked at him in amazement, and fear. The man pulled his head back, draping his arms around L's waist, and licked the blood off his lips.

"Hello Raito," he said in a voice that made a chill travel down Raito's spine. "I am Beyond Birthday…let's play a game, shall we?" he cooed like a lover, licking a dribble of blood shining on L's neck.

L stood silent, and still, unaware of the shaft of fear and panic lurching Raito's heart.

**Comments**: Now I am sure many of you will argue about Raito giving special attention to the ladies, but I beg to differ. Raito considers women as nothing but objects, and he believes in manipulating them.

All of you must have noticed how girls simply flocked to him, thinking that he could do no wrong. Well, it is obvious that Raito is good in bed; otherwise Takada never would have pledged her alliance to him after a single romantic time they had together in the hotel room. Not to mention Misa's demands, and her verbal declarations, 'I will be a good girl, and sleep by myself tonight.'

So it is blatantly obvious that Raito knows how to please women in bed, so that he can coax them into doing whatever he wants. It is just that simple. Anyways, I hope this was satisfactory for those people who are reading this story.


	19. Chapter 19: L and Beyond

**Comments**: Well, this has certainly been quite a long break. I am sure plenty of you must be pissed, at how incompetent and lazy I am. But, actually believe you me, my writer side had run off somewhere, and would not come back. But yesterday, Ikuta Toma's Samurai shoot inspired me to write this, or more appropriately plonk away on my laptop. Quite a story huh, but alas it is very very true.

This chapter is pint sized, as it was solely written to get those rusty gears in my head moving, but at a harmlessly steady pace.

**Chapter Nineteenth**: L and Beyond

"Beyond," Ratio almost gasped out, the rusty gears in his head turning at a rather alarming rate, "what?" he finally asked, his vision going quickly askew, away from the two extremely pale looking Ls'.

They looked like two, strange raccoon like vampires. Or at least one of them that called himself L, which Raito boldly thought was nothing more than a pretense of complete idiocy, or maybe a quick heavy jab at his intellect. Somehow his now addled mind could not manage to pick one.

"What what?" the paler, and slightly more crazy looking L answered back, cracking his neck.

Raito's jaw tensed and he ground his glistering white teeth, that would have been enough to blind Misa when she annoyed him to play darkroom at night. A single large vein bulged out in his temple, and he let out a noisy snuffle.

"What?" he asked again, rising his right eyebrow quite high. His brow lined with pre-mature, wrinkle like lines. He just looked murderously annoyed.

The L like man cuddled the quite L close to him, swiveling his head around slowly as if he was lost in thought. "You say what a lot," he said in an amused voice, "are you dense?"

Raito shuffled his feet awkwardly, feeling the slippery liquid under his feet, but he refused to look down. The spiraling grey mist around him, twisted and turned like a wild animal snuffling around for its prey.

The air was heavy, his head was heavy, his body felt heavy, heck even his pants were tight and heavy around certain regions. He just wanted to get the hell out of there, here, wherever he was.

Raito twisted his head forward, so quickly and painfully that a sharp pain shot straight up to his temple. "What's so damn funny?" he hissed, sending spittle into the thick air. He did not bend his head any lower than it already was to search for his precious trove of spit, lost forever in the utter mysteriousness of the swirly and gassy mist.

"You can leave Raito, but you will have to come back," the strangely mad L, looking as if he had had too much of pot for one day, stretched his white neck out, and widened his crimson eyes at Raito.

Raito looked back, matching the crazy man's taunting gaze with not much force. He was feeling weak under the invisible of assault of Beyond's bloody eyes, that were now crying crimson tears.

One by one, the tears plopped on L's white shirt and spread out like a red stain, soaking through his shirt all the way to his skin. Raito felt them, the strange stab of icy pain on his shoulder… little by little, spreading through his body.

Raito was feeling ecstatic, like the tension in his burdened body was released. He was free, and the freedom tasted better, bitter, a little painful and a little pleasurably surreal. His eyes were getting sucked into his scull, and the whole world before him vanished like the infamous vanishing act of Houdini.

His eyes trembled on his face, a little painful from taking in the striking yellow colour of Misa's messy omelet like hair.

She cupped Raito's confused, and sweaty face that gave the impression of a looted idiot in her perfectly manicured hands, and shook it a little. What followed was an assortment of shrill and unpleasant screams.

"RAITO…RAITO…RAITO…RAI,"

"Misa, I think I CAN hear you," he shot back angrily, pushing the straddling model a little back on his chest, as most of her private bits were quite in his face.

Misa clapped excitedly, that felt nothing but hammers hammering straight on Raito squishy brain, and giggled like she typically did day in day out. "Raito fainted," she playfully imitated a fake gasp, "the sex was good."

Raito narrowed his already squinted eyes, he had been through hell thanks to something she had put in his drink. "What did you put in the drink?"

"W…wha…"

"Don't play dumb with me Misa, I saw you put something into the drink. You said it was a mere stimulus for sex." His glare intensified. "Well, what was it?"

Misa clasped her fingers together. "Misa would never lie to her Raito-Kun. It was a famous Chinese herb, called…" she said, straining her face, "…Misa does not remember its name. But Misa swears it was not a drug, just a herb."

Raito rolled his eyes. Misa looked like she was about to faint from his angry interrogation. Maybe the shopkeeper tricked her. He would nail that bastard's ass tomorrow.

"Just get off me Misa, and go to sleep," he said quickly, pushing the tiny model off him completely.

Misa grabbed the blanket and pulled it over both of them. She threw her arm over his bare chest and balled up next to him like she did every night. Within seconds Raito's ears were filled with her nearly indistinct snores.

Raito slowly drifted into sleep, determined to go to that herb store tomorrow.

**AN**: This is all I came up with for this chapter. Any comments and pms' are welcome of course.


	20. Chapter 20: A Pact

**Comments: **I have seen a comment regarding the OOC nature of my characters', which I am assuming to be L this time. As much as I appreciate the critique, I will have to disagree with anyone who straight away - without giving much thought to my characterization - slaps an OOC comment in the review section.

L is a detective first and anything else later. As a detective, he has solved many cases before, which may or may not have involved super perfect characters like Light/Raito. And given the fact that he IS a detective, he has to converse with his suspects at THEIR LEVEL. I think it is a matter of common sense, if not anything else.

Even if you look at the Manga/Anime, L's interaction with Misa is very different compared to Raito, and then with the rest of the team. This should offer some explanation to the people here, because just branding something as OOC is a slap in the face of an author, who has ACTUALLY worked hard to keep characters as faithful as possible to the canon story.

**Chapter Twenty**: A Pact

Raito had gone over to the store in the morning, as he had intended to. But it turned out that his ever-loving, bubbly girlfriend had spoken the truth and nothing but the truth. Strangely, he was annoyed. He wanted the shop keeper to say something unusual, at least that would have explained the bizarre dream he had the other night. So far, he was unable to pin it on anyone.

Raito clenched his jaws, and fists, and rolled his eyes just a little to look at the spitting image of ugly flying right next to him. "What is so damn funny Ryuk?" he hissed carefully under his breath, and turned his hazel eyes to look at stop sign ahead.

"Hyuk hyuk…nothing. I just find you amusing today," Ryuk said, bending his knees and stretching out his freakishly huge yellow eyes.

Raito shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. The chill in the air was biting at him with ferocity. It was so cold, that warm breaths hung in front of faces like fluffy little clouds.

"Really? Can you share it with me Ryuk? I can use a laugh or two right about now, since Near has taken over the investigation at US of A. And I am stuck here to babysit Takada, and Misa," he said, sounding cold and bitter.

Ryuk adjusted his spidery limbs, and gave a huge flap of his wings, rising above the people below him by a foot or two. "I can't tell you." He stretched his purple lips from ear to ear, throwing his artificial and creepy smile at Raito, whose face was still stone-cold-sober.

"Is that so?" Raito whispered, feeling the sudden blast of cold air hit straight in his face. "Is it one of your brilliant secrets again, which I end up knowing later as a part of Shinigami rules?"

Ryuk's happy smile lessened a bit, and his eyes gave Raito a meaningful stare before regaining that creepy look again. "Yes, it is a secret, but," he paused in his words, catching the wind under his wings, "it will be fun this time…so much fun." He laughed heartily next to Raito who crossed the zebra crossing with others, who were unaware of the existence of a God, and the other god of death with him.

Raito walked sedately, thinking about his conference with Near. Mulling over Ryuk's dodgy games was the least of his problems. He had to work out to get Takada out of his way. If death note was with the team, then he had nothing to worry about. They had no proof he was Kira.

For the time being he was safe. But for how many days or blissful moments, he did not know. Takada had done all she could to ruin him completely, and only her death could set things right. He was waiting for a right moment to strike and eliminate her, but that golden touch of lady luck was eluding him fiercely.

But he would take this challenge, and appear a victor in this godly game of life and death. L was dead, and his heart was still beating. And as long as it was beating in his chest, he will not let anyone denude him of the taste of power.

"Ryuk, please keep your mouth shut in the conference hall," Raito said, skittering his honey brown eyes to look here and there at the surrounding people. "The others may not see or hear you, but fortunately I can."

Ryuk sat up straight in air, thinking again. "Are you being sarcastic?" Ryuk asked after some moments of carefully weighing his answer.

"Now why would I be sarcastic with you? You are always so polite, I tend to return the excessive courtesies you throw at me daily," Raito replied in a slow, careful voice, making his way through the ocean of people on the street.

"Don't be so cranky Raito. I am sure that thing you do daily with Misa at night will fix you up quickly," Ryuk suggested, getting an angry scowl in response.

"I had no idea Ryuk that you were a class A peeping Tom," Raito said, pushing some overgrown bangs out of his eyes.

"My name is Ryuk, Raito. I can not believe you are giving me nicknames." Ryuk swiveled around him in air, still looking quite happy. "Last time you muttered something like, cock enigma and the other time a thin dick. While I appreciate this close-relationship we have, I do demand a certain level of respect," he finished stopping an inch or two away from the stall of luscious red apples.

"Yes yes Ryuk, I know. And by the way, you are not getting any apples today unless you manage to stay quiet, or better yet, out of my sight for the whole time I am in that meeting," Raito said, looking at Ryuk out of the corner of his eyes.

Ryuk made a face, straightening his long thin back. "You always drive a hard bargain Raito," he paused, looking at those apples with a strange hungry glint to his eyes. "Alright, you win this time."

"Good," Raito whispered, and pulled out his wallet to pay for apples.

Next to him, Ryuk ecstatically spun around in air. Raito's features contorted in disgust. He hated it when Ryuk acted like a typical hound, about to get his daily bone treat. He could never understand him. Ryuk was not stupid, that's for sure, and this new secret he mentioned was definitely worth investigating, but not today. He had to put Takada out of her misery first.

"Here you go sir," he woman said politely, handing over two dozen apples to Raito. She had put on a nice, flirtatious smile today, as this was the third time Raito had bought those damn one dollar apples from her. Yes, he hated Ryuk.

"Thank you." Raito wafted a nice smile at her, and began walking for the building, slowing rising above the long road.

"I think she likes you," Ryuk teased, looking into the bag in Raito's hands.

"You know what Ryuk, my sex-life with Misa, and this girl's strange interest in me, is frankly speaking, none of your business," Raito shot back, feeling his pocket feel lighter from all that showy bleeding love for this piggy death god.

"But I was just…"

"But nothing Ryuk," Raito quickly cut him off, putting on a fake smile to greet one of the flower ladies he knew. "Keep your opinions to yourself today, or else you won't get any apples for three months…got it?"

"Sheesh… it's one time I ask him something," Ryuk said, flying slowly behind Raito down the busy street.

Gevanni marched into the room, and plonked a heap of files on the table right next to the silent micro-phone. He was stressed, and so was the rest of the team. This Near fellow was a completely new guy. No one knew what he looked like, or how old he was, but apparently, he had taken over kira investigation over-seas.

Raito stood at the corner of the room, his eyes draped by the evening shadows. A hint of fear made his heart flutter like a dying bird; _why is the team not informed of anything about Near_?

So many thoughts raced in his mind, but it was a new battle. Did he really have to fight the same battle all over again? This time, the advantage was not his. Takada had screwed up big time. Whoever that Steve fellow was, L surely did not know his real name, and Takada most certainly only knew about how deft he was at removing her clothes, and pleasing her female bits with blazing hot finesse.

A thin line of sweat dragged its way down to his chin. The icy hold hand of defeat was closing around him. He had already asked Mikami to look for a moment to avail, but thanks to him, the crime rate had drastically dropped. There was no way out for him…

"Ha ha ha ha ha… yeah that is true Aizawa-San," Matsuda chocked out, after a painfully long string of laughs.

Aizawa gave him a disapproving look, and returned his attention back to his file. Raito's father squinted his eyes behind his glasses; he had probably lost some eye-sight numbers again and needed a new check up.

Matsuda looked awfully cheery though. A huge smile had broken his face into this goody-goody annoying, 'I am so so happy' look, but alas it refused to leave it. His humming was breaking Raito's concentration so much, that he wanted to pull open his watch and kill the pundit moron right away.

Raito rolled his eyes behind his flop of thin, silky light brown hair, and suddenly caught sight of Ryuk sticking his head inside the building. He remained perfectly still, squinting through the mass of hair over his eyes. No one else could see Ryuk's ugly mug, but he could see it very clearly.

Ryuk screwed his head around a little, and then finally unhinged his jaws into a freakish grin, showing his shark-like jagged forty something teeth when he saw Raito standing far far away from him.

Ryuk pulled all of himself in, and glided his way towards Raito who was scratching his forehead with his middle finger only. He circled around Matsuda a little, and then finally flew his way to Raito. Matsuda tipped his head back, and with a rather curious expression looked at the empty air above him…he really was a very weird guy.

Ryuk, stopping his jumbo-jet sized wings, dropped his head down a little. "I just came here to tell you, that Mikami has an idea about Takada," Ryuk said in an excited voice which rang in his ears, but the others went about their business oblivious to Ryuk's menacing presence.

Raito let out a long sigh, and folded his arms across his chest. Taking this as a cue, Ryuk dragged his nasty self through the air and out of the building. Raito raked his hair with his fingers, and scratched his right thigh; his jeans were getting a little sweaty from inside.

He moved his gaze around, and found Matsuda's head still titled back, eyes focused on nothing. Raito always thought of him as a complete idiot, but he had to give it to him, the man had a high sixth sense. At least something to make up for his general lack of ingenuity.

"What are you looking at, Matsuda-San?" Raito asked politely, feeling a strange sense of glee from this one-sided joke.

Matsuda, quickly closing his wide-open mouth, flashed his all-morning boring grin again. "Nothing, just a weird feeling as if something was watching us," he said discreetly, and went about his own business, evading Gevanni's probing angry gaze.

Gevanni muttered something like 'moron' to himself, and pulled out a red file from under the long pile. His last words passed into silence, broken by the crackling sounds of paper and warm breaths in air.

"Gevanni-San, I have received the files," the micro-phone suddenly came alive with loud, static sound that rang all around the room.

"Near-San…" Gevanni barely managed, catching the falling file in time.

Raito's calm expression went just a little troubled, but the emotions he always kept bottled up began to ooze out a little from his mind over his skin. A hazy thin cloud of uneasiness eased onto his face.

"I believe that Takada-San is working for someone," the voice said in a single static expression, hitting Raito's fears harder than unruly waves. If Takada were to get captured right now, all his plans will haul to the wind all the way towards his destined demise. It was nothing but doom and despair from here on now, if Near chose to act immediately. He needed something, he needed time…

"Monitor her activities for two days, and then bring her in," the voice said, and then the mike went silent. "If she is killed before that, then I shall interrogate the team."

Loud gasps rose up from the team, but Matsuda was as usual the first one to speak out in defiance. "What do we have to do with this?" he asked in surprise, looking at others and then Raito for some verbal support.

The room was filled with silence again, before the micro-phone screamed out Near's voice. "My decision is final. The rest will be discussed tomorrow. Good day to you all," the voice said, and then the static sound disappeared again.

A tiny smile ran across Raito's lips, covered by the shadows again. Time was all he needed. His insides felt good with another victory, as he watched the Team's confusion with silence and the same expression of worry he wore just now for the right occasion. Near had nothing against him, not a shred of proof.

"Sayonara, Takada," his mind whispered, and as the last word echoed in his being, it brought a new sense of joy to him. It was his game again.

A thin plume of smoke rose up from the tall candles, and quickly dispersed against the draft of wind blowing into the dark room. A lone woman sat before the tiny table, holding a small torn paper in her hand.

She looked up at the death god, grinning down at her. Her eyes were gleaming with tears, and her heart wrenched at by the sudden heavy loss. She dropped her eyes just a little, and then lifted them back up again to fix them on death looking back at her, happily and with a hint of mischievousness.

"I will not let him or anyone else cross over to the other side," she said in a forced voice, "you cannot have their lives."

The death god's smile stretched to his ears, but he stood quietly beyond the table.

"Return his life, and take his life in return and I will undo what I have done," she said, rising to her feet.

"Hyuk hyuk hyuk, you are a cheeky one," the dead god responded with a cackle. "I will let you play your little game till he figures it out."

The girl listened to the death god's shrill voice, and pressed her hands against her chest. At a distance, thunder clapped in the sky, it was going to come down heavily soon.

"Either way, Raito will eventually die by my hands." He shrunk his eyes with meaning and resolute playfulness. "And then you can have your precious L back. I am just in this for the games," the god said, cackling afterwards.

The girl draped herself down on the rug, and ran her hands through black unruly hair that shone like black silk on white skin devoid of life. She began to hum a local song, and did not turn her head when the mischief causing god left through the thin walls of her room.


	21. Chapter 21: Planned death

**Chapter 21**: Planned death

One day… so much could be accomplished in a single day, but with all the fetters of ill-fated streak, Raito was beginning to doubt his own best laid plans, or worse his sanity. Last night he had another trip to see the two dead Ls' again. All of this was seriously beginning to freak him out.

The naughty Beyond had asked him a strange riddle, and by some creepy coincidence he remembered it, all of it, even his sardonic smile and the piercing gaze of his blood red eyes.

"Didn't I tell you, you would come here again," Beyond said in a menacing voice, patting L's rumpled bed hair.

Raito slapped his face, squinting through his splayed out fingers. The two white Ls' standing against the backdrop of black and white misery. A puddle of crimson at their feet spilled forth thin trails of blood that pooled into the grayish silent ocean.

The dream felt so real. The icy blast of wind on his face, the strange sensation of death hovering above him silently. The air redolent and heavy with something scentless. His head tried hard to work out this enigma, but it was not clear at all.

Raito moved his eyes skyward, the clouds flashing with the dancing blue light, but he heard no sound, not even a distant rumble. He dropped his gaze on Beyond who looked back at him, wearing his creepy smile. He was still holding onto L tightly, his arms clasped around L's narrow blood-drenched waist.

A sudden puff of wind threw his back a little. He staggered slightly on the rugged coastline, but regained his footing. The calmly undulating waves rushed forward, crashing on the rocks with the same stillness. A spray of grey landed on Raito's face, he wiped it clean on his sleeve.

Now he felt extremely thirsty, avoiding the crazy gaze of Beyond and his quiet clam alter ego, L. Again the clam L drew Raito's eyes towards him. There was no colour on his lifeless skin. He just stood there, eyes downcast at the pool of still blood at his feet. He would not lift his eyes… Raito felt as if he was avoiding him.

"You know." Beyond let go of L, pulling his feet out of the puddle. "I have a riddle for you."

Raito narrowed his eyes, showing displeasure at Beyond's boldness. "I don't have time for your stupid riddles," he said coldly, looking at the rising mist.

"But it would be so much fun. And I love games," Beyond said in a playful voice, stretching out his neck.

"Shut up, and get off my back. I have no interest in games," Raito shot back, turning around to walk away from Beyond and some kind of weird incarnation of L.

"A woman is looking down at a dug grave," Beyond said, whispering into the air. "It is six feet deep, but it is empty."

Raito stopped, unwillingly listening to Beyond's idea of joke in a hellish place like this. Beyond's voice, bursting through the surrounding mist prickled his face. It felt as if he was everywhere.

"She said, oyu will be in the grave soon," Beyond continued, smiling behind Raito's back. "My child, my son, your time is at an end…" he stopped, and then it was absolute silence again.

Raito's ears were ringing with the noise. His stomach was churning, and he felt sick. The whole world was swimming before his eyes. He did not know what was going on. Either he getting out of that dream, or was it just vomit.

Raito dropped down on his knees, wheezing. He was out of breath, trying to gulp down some life into his aching chest. His hands were trembling on the jagged rocks. They felt prickly, and injured.

Raito closed his eyes shut, trying to soothe his tortured head. He opened them slowly, looking at Beyond's blood streaked feet only an inch or two away from his hands. Raito looked up, and stared into his crimson, stretched out eyes. He looked just like L. Heck he even stood like him, with his hands in those worn-out blue jeans, and the same drooping back.

Beyond leaned over Raito, bringing his nose only inch away from his face. Even up close, the resemblance was almost uncanny. And no matter how many times he blinked, Beyond's face refused to take on a different, less terrifying form.

Beyond shut his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh, that felt like a bunch of cold little knives stabbing Raito's face. His cold breath enveloped Raito's face, nearly chocking him.

He opened his eyes, staring down at Raito who looked back at him miserably. He tapped his lips, creating a thinking expression and then cracked a smile. "What do you think she meant?" he asked thoughtfully. Towering over Raito, still on his knees like an injured hound.

Raito sat up straight, palming the sweat from his face. He looked down at his hands. It seemed that the sharp rocks had managed to draw some blood out of them. Tiny holes dotted his hands. He dropped his hands on his thighs, and dragged himself to his feet. He lifted his eyes to look at the mist just beyond the coastline. This time, he could see silhouettes of some people beyond it.

"Raito," Misa squeaked, breaking Raito's much needed private concentration.

He lifted his eyes, and his brown brows and looked at Misa with a bored face while she hopped a couple of inches into the air to flash her hanging out breasts and ass. "Yes Misa, what is it this time?" he asked, propping his tired face on his hand.

Misa whirled around, and stretched out her arms, pretending to be a wanna-be ballerina, who had just failed her test with an F minus minus, he assumed. "Does Raito-Kun like it?" Misa said, sounding dirty and depraved again.

Raito let out a long sigh. Death note memory free Misa was hardly ever useful these days, expect for the times when he needed to let out some hormonal steam at night. He had never thought he would hear his head say this, but he was actually thinking of going to the whores in the red light area. But they needed money…

Raito rubbed his tensed forehead, because he already had a money hogging apple-whore, who was not even that nice looking. He had thought of dumping her, but only the dear lord new how she would react. Who knew, maybe she might scream him to death or something… these days, the way things were turning out for him, any damn thing was possible.

Misa leaned forward, staring in Raito's fuzzy eyes from an inch away. "Well," she said, after maintaining her tear giving eye-contact for some seconds.

Raito leaned back into his chair, and lazily took a good hard look at the very very petite model, standing tip-toed with her hands stylishly raised in air. All she was wearing was a bra, and a laced under-wear… but as the circumstances required - and of course he found Misa to be very average at best aside of those nightly raging hormone occasions - he could not get a raging hard-on as she had probably expected.

At the look of Raito's drooping eyes, and bored mug as she would call it, Misa's puckered up lips sagged suddenly. "Raito-Kun does not like it?" she asked in a timid voice, batting her lashes at an alarming speed.

Raito pretended to look interested, watching the sudden switch in the model's mood, who had a bizarre mettle. "I think it looks very nice on you Misa," he complimented, throwing a believable fake smile.

Misa let out a long scream, which Raito's ears could catch as something like 'yay', and jumped on Raito's lap. "Is Raito bored?" Misa asked seductively, tapping her fingers on his chest.

Raito took in a long intake of breath; Misa always made things harder for him. He curled an arm around her, and patted her head. "No Misa, I am very busy right now," he replied, keeping his tone as kind and even as possible. "But, if you be a good girl and let me do my work, I promise to take you out a nice dinner. Deal?"

Misa clapped excitedly; it was so easy to please this foolish girl. "Raito-Kun is such a good boyfriend." Raito smiled in agreement, even if the unthinkable word 'boyfriend' almost chocked him to death. She gave a loud smack on his lips, and ran off to her room to play with make up and cell phone.

Raito tilted his head back, and got startled at Ryuk's face hovering above his. Ryuk's broken face broke into a huge grin, before he erupted into his typical spluttering, annoying giggles.

"You will be happy," Ryuk said, staring merrily down at Raito's changed expression.

Raito's contours tightened at the lips, and a pleasant smile ran across his face. He got to his feet, and clicked on the television sitting in front of him with a remote control. The TV flashed a woman's image, who stood before a building wall riddled with bullet holes.

Raito turned up the volume; his eyes drinking in the image of victory, a victory that had slipped him for so long. Ryuk perched himself on the sofa, munching on the last bit of red apple in his hand.

"_We are at the scene of shoot out, where an anti-Kira group raked the studio building with gun shots. Reports confirm that fire was exchanged between Miss Takada's body guards', and the illustrious group that has been gaining power in its movement against Kira supporters."_

Raito folded his arms, looking at the scenes of chaos playing before his eyes. People ran helter-skelter across the screen, and a thick cloud of smoke rose from the burnt cars in the background. The sounds of ambulance sirens blared out from the television. Mikami had made him proud.

"_Right now," the reporter resumed, "we do not have confirmation on the total number of people killed in this incident, but Kira correspondent Miss Takada Kyomi died after succumbing to the gun shot wounds."_

Raito turned off the TV, and stared at his reflection looking back at him. A surge of emotion rose up, and he lightly pressed his knuckle on his lips, to smother the rising laughter from spilling forth. Instead, he just let out a little chuckle.

Ryuk moved his head to one side, and with great curiosity looked at the young man enjoying the savour of power in his hand; the power of life and death. His yellow eyes searched the innocence, which he once had on his face, now lost before this cause.

"I think, I can now safely say that the game is mine again." Raito clenched his fist, wearing a sardonic smile with just a flicker of raw excitement.

Ryuk smiled in response. "You sure make things interesting, Raito," Ryuk said, narrowing his icy cold eyes.

"Not….again," Raito rumbled through clenched teeth. He had found himself in that weird dream again, looking at L's bent down head, and Beyond grinning at him like that hideous looking cat from Alice in the Wonderland…

_I would get Misa; she has something to do with this_, the thought ran like a bullet through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, when an unbearable stench crept into his nose. It was so putrid that it spun his head violently. It was like a rotting smell given off by a thousand dead dogs.

Raito's hand flew for his mouth. He pressed his fingers on his nose, feeling the stench choke up his throat. He cracked open his eyes, and staggered back. Fear rippled his composed face, stealing the pride from his eyes.

The mist beyond the coast-line was thinning out, and a woman was staring at him with bloody eyes from across the barrier.

Raito gulped down the huge lump in his throat, his eyes staring at the blood leaking from her eyes. He could not believe it. He snapped shut his eyes, and then opened them, but they had not betrayed him. Now the woman was clear, pressing her dead body against the thin curtain between him and the countless others with her.

He could not muster up the resolve to say her name, but also could not find the strength to look away. It was Takada.

**AN**: I am ending this story with two more chapters. Merry Christmas, and a happy new year, which is soon to come.


	22. Chapter 22: The Closing Trap

**Chapter 22**: The Closing Trap

"The rule has been tested before," Lester reasoned, looking down at the white-haired young man busy with his toys.

Near lazily tapped on a tiny model, and then knocked it over. "I know, but," he said slowly, picking up the model between his two fingers, "this is the only rule which declares Raito innocent."

"Don't be ridiculous Near," Mello said from across the room. "You have enough evidence to bring him in."

Near let out a sigh, and twirled his slightly curly hair. "The second death note is a liability." Near's expression went slightly tense. "What if the death god of this death note kills again at his command?"

Mello opened his lips to say something, but decided not to. "What about Mikami?" Mello asked, his lips set in a thin line. He hated it when Near was right.

Near rearranged the models and then looked at them closely, his gaze settled on the one wearing glasses. "Halle successfully infiltrated the Kira show," he paused, putting the model close to another one which had Kira painted across its chest, "so far, it seems like he is just another fanatic."

Mello, eyeing the news on the television unwrapped the chocolate bar in his hand. "We have checked and rechecked all the others, I am dead sure that Mikami is the one."

Near clasped his arms around his curled up leg. "He seems rather punctual," he said thoughtfully.

Mello's lips pulled up into a sardonic smile. "Just like that Frat boy Yagami," he said in a mocking tone, and took a huge bite out of his bar.

"I suppose that is one way to look at it," Near replied calmly, shuffling a stack of files near the well arranged toys.

Mello wiped the smears of chocolate from the corners of his lips. "And the other being the fact that he sounds like a total fag," he said, waving the chocolate bar. "I bet he even has wet dreams about the guy. Did you hear his yesterday's speech?"

Near twisted his messy hair again. "He just idealizes Kira. It must have a lot to do with his self-righteous mind-set."

"Self-Righteous, my ass…" Mello spat back, crunching on the dry-fruit coated bar. "He is nothing but an insane murderer. I wonder where he is hiding that book?" Mello said to himself, relaxing his angry face.

"Halle has been interacting with him for the past three weeks. If all goes well, we should see some progress tomorrow," Near said, and looked over his shoulder at Mello.

"I hope he trusts her enough to let something slip, otherwise your plan is a huge failure," Mello said, squashing the wrapping in his fist.

"If it does fail, then you can always take charge," Near said in response, shifting his gaze from Mello's contorted face to Lester's. "How many days are left?"

"A day, but I still think it is useless to wait for this," he said, watching Near drag himself up to his feet.

"I doubt it is useless," Near said calmly, turning around slowly to face Lester. "According to Gevanni, Raito probably controlled L's death."

Mello slung the wrapper into the dust bin. "So he only knew the prisoner's real name," he said, looking at the open window.

Near nodded, his face relaxed into a single calm expression. "If he knew the name of others, Gevanni and that young man Steve would have been dead by now."

"That man is such a stud. I can't believe he got away with a full book," Mello said, giggling.

"L selected them with care. It's because of that that his plan was a success." Near looked at Mello, meeting his challenging stare. "And we will do the same. Lester, ask Halle to lead Mikami on with what we had discussed earlier," he said, shifting his gaze on Lester's face, crinkled at the eyes.

Lester, wearing a skeptical look gave a quick absentminded nod.

"That little fag won't know what hit him," Mello said with distaste, cringing his face.

Near lifted his eyes to look at his rival and childhood friend. "Either way, Yagami Raito has little time. I would love to see how he gets out of this one," Near said in a leveled calm voice, holding his gaze.

Mello narrowed his eyes away to look at the building standing a couple of miles away from this one. Sun hung close to it, surrounding by a pile of clouds. A sprawl of apartment buildings encircled it from all sides. It was the building where the Kira task force worked, unaware of Near's arrival in Japan.

Halle sat next to Mikami in the Kira show. Having received her orders, she thought over what she was supposed to do once the show ended. She gulped down the stale air in the studio, filled with several smells of strong perfumes. They pricked her throat.

She pressed her fist on her lips, and cleared her throat. The last avid Kira fanatic was delivering her long, tiring speech… in a few seconds the show was to end, and then it was up to her to make sure Mikami took the bait.

Halle jerked her head up, startled by the sudden touch on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Mikami asked, curling his fingers around her shoulder.

"Yes, it's just the seasonal change. I always get sick at this time of the year," she said in an undertone, tucking her long golden hair behind her ear.

Mikami stretched his lips into a smile. "I hope you are taking medications, otherwise we will lose a great Kira supporter for the coming event," he said in a mellow, unthreatening voice that surprised Halle.

He looked calm, collected, and in full control of himself. If there was any man who was helping Raito in this game, then it would have to be him. Her face broke out in cold sweat. This man was dangerous.

Halle let out a long weary sigh. "You worry too much. I will be there," she assured him, running her hand through her golden hairs, which were a little musky from sweat.

Mikami lifted the corners of his lips, and gave a fleeting smile before he looked ahead to listen to the final words of worship from a new Kira supporter. Mikami had gathered enough supporters to fully replace the ones lost to anti-Kira riots only a few days ago.

Takada lost her life, along with a few other unfortunate people. It was a clever plan, Halle thought. Raito wanted to take out Takada, and there was no better way than to control the heads of the anit-kira group. He faked it as a common riot, quelled by the police soon after, but not at a major loss of life.

"I guess it is over," said Mikami, pushing his black rimmed glassed back on his thin nose.

Halle looked over the heads of several people murmuring with each other. "I think it is. Let's go," she said, getting to her feet.

"Is that woman reliable?" Mikami asked, wearing a strange accusatory expression.

Halle narrowed her eyes, meeting his gaze with confidence. "I did send you all her particulars. I doubt she's with any anti-Kira group."

Mikami took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes on his palms. A thin dark circle surrounded his eyes, he looked very tired. "You do remember the incident, which happened only a few days ago?" he said, puffing at his glasses, and then wiped away the fog on his clean black coat.

"If you don't trust her, then I guess there is no need," Halle said, agreeing with his skeptical perspective on new supporters.

Mikami wore the glasses again, and looked up at her. His blank face suggested nothing. "There is no harm in meeting her," he finally agreed after a big pause.

Halle pulled an amused look, and made her way out of the empty row of seats. "Make up your mind Mikami," Halle said over her shoulder.

"I have made up my mind," Mikami said, following behind her through the third row of tiers of seats. Mikami bowed down before the producer of the show, and then took small steps out of the giant hall.

It was windy outside. People flailed about the streets, holding umbrellas tightly in their hands. Butterfly lamps shook in the wind outside an antique shop. A giant dark cloud loomed up in the sky; it looked like it was about to rain.

Halle lifted her eyes to look up, squinting against the wind. "Looks like it is about to rain. We should get to the bus stop now, I don't want to get wet," she said, raising her voice over the blaring wind noise.

Mikami agreed with a quick nod, and took quick strides to get across the street to the other side. Halle wrapped her arms around herself, and ran her eyes around the busy streets… so far, everything looked normal.

She shifted her gaze just a little to look at Mikami's clam face. A sudden chill shook her body. He most probably had Shinigami eyes, and already knew her name, even if he asked the new supporters to hide their identities. One tiny mistake, and it will all be over for her. With this thought, her face set itself into a resolute but patient look.

"It seems to be crowded today," Mikami said, looking around at the crowd gathered under the giant shed of Bus stop.

Halle narrowed her eyes, eyeing the shifty looking man standing with the crowd huddled near the stop sign. He came there just on time. Near had paid a man to urge this criminal to rob a business man at the bus stop.

Mizaki was a convicted killer on death row. However, after Near convinced the police of the situation, he was set free on grounds of insufficient evidence; he was to be used as Mikami's bait.

Halle pulled up her collars, her open coat flying behind her. She slowed down her walk, waiting for Mizaki to pull out his gun and create a scene. She took in the cold wind, cooling down the burning sensation of anticipation in her throat.

"Wait," Mikami whispered under his breath, taking hold of Halle's arm.

Halle stopped in her tracks, and quickly created a surprised look on her face. "What is it?" she asked, looking from Mikami gaze set on someone in front, to Mikazi's exposed face riddled with confusion.

Mikami quickly dragged her into the alleyway, and then stretched his neck out slightly to look at Mikazi…he had recognized him. "It's Mizaki," he said, looking incredulous and angry.

Halle quickly masked the tiny flicker of excitement that ran across her face. "Really? What is he doing here?" she said in an equally surprised voice, looking at Mikami's expressions tightening into a murderous look.

His nostrils flared, as he breathed nosily behind the pulled up collars. "He was on death row, but they let him out," he rumbled, contorting his face further.

"No wonder the world is in such a state," she said, standing closely behind him; her gaze set upon his clenched jaw. Mikami had been fooled. The police never made his release public; it was something which was leaked to Kira supporters only.

"Damn it," he hissed, shoving his hand in his pocket when Mikazi pulled a gun on the unsuspecting businessman. "Eliminate," he let out a tiny crazed whisper, his eyes shone with the glint of hatred.

Halle's eyes widened. _There_ is_ no way he will pull out the page in front of me_. Her breath came out quickly, her eyes not leaving Mikami's face that now showed the formation of a mocking smile.

Mizaki yelled something incoherent, and fired several bullets into the air. People screamed and ducked. Several police men ran from about 20 metres away towards the bus stop, but Mizaki had already fled with the money.

"He's gone," Halle said, relieved.

Mikami stepped out of alleyway, that strange look had disappeared from his face. He sighed, looking calm and collected like before. "Let's go and meet this woman," he said to Halle who was looking back at him, hiding all emotions boiling inside of her.

"Yes," Halle said, pressing her hand to her chest, rapidly rising and falling under the thick coat.

Mikami adjusted his glasses, and smiled. "Don't worry, I am sure Kira will take care of this," he said confidently.

Halle silently agreed, and made her way to the bus stop where several people stood frightened, surrounded by the police men.

"I didn't believe that such a simple plan would work," Near said, standing hunched next to his odd toy collection.

Halle stood close to the door, staring at Mello greedily eating his chocolate bar. "Do you think he would confirm with Raito?" she asked, bending her attention on Near.

"I doubt that," Near said, pulling up his crinkled white pajamas. "There is no reason for him to suspect that the people at bus stop were paid to act."

Halle cupped her chin, slightly bending her brow. "What about the news? He has been taking information from the police somehow."

"It worked out in our advantage if anything else," Near said calmly, his blue eyes hidden under the flop of oddly cut white hair. "I will just ask the chief to restrict the news to this locality, and that news will ultimately travel throughout the fanatic club. They will think that we are trying to cover it up to control the panic among the general public."

"He goes to bank and his gym," Halle paused, folding her arms, "there is a chance that the death note is at the bank."

Lester barged into the room, his face twisted in surprise and glistering with sweat. "Mizaki is dead. He got run over by a bus trying to escape the police, and…"

Near's eyes flashed a quick expression before it disappeared. "And the prisoner?" Near asked, his voice deep with an underlying emotion.

Halle and Mello's face froze in anticipation. A dribble of thick chocolate ran down Mello's chin, but he was completely unaware of it.

"The prisoner is still alive," Lester said, catching his breath. Two gasps of surprise rose from Mello and Halle, but Near quietly sat down next to his toys.

"I think it is time to bring Mr. Mikami Teru in," Near said, tapping his finger on the tiny model of Mikami.

**AN**: Great, now only one more chapter is left and I am done with this story.


	23. Final Chapter: Rise Again

**Comments: **It took me a little while to end this. But here is the last chapter of this story. I kept it as decent, and to the point as possible without dragging anything. Enjoy.

**Final Chapter**: Rise Again

"It's been three weeks," Gevanni began, his eyes not leaving L's quiet face, "I see no sign of decomposition."

Minamo lifted a thin stick from the candle stand, and lowered it over the flickering candle flame. Its tip caught fire, and a thin plume of smoke lifted up into the still air. She waved it a little, scattering wisps of pleasant incense around her and the silently sleeping L.

Minamo puffed out the little flame on the stick, throwing small ambers on the tiny table set in front of her. She slipped the stick in a thin, long vase, and then slowly stroked L's supple black hair again. His body looked fresh. It looked as if he was peacefully sleeping. His eyes were gently closed, and a subtle smile played about his lips… rosy with the light of life.

It shocked Gevanni how alive he was in death.

"You said that the chemicals will work," Minamo said, wiping away the traces of herbal liquid from L's fair face.

Gevanni sighed, palming the sweat drops from his face. The room was stuffy with the smell of so many herbs. "Yes, but…you gave him something as well, didn't you?" Gevanni asked, looking at Minamo turn her head slightly at him.

The rueful expression was still there, firmly set in, hovering in her eyes. Her pink lips were almost white, dry and parched at the corners. She looked sad, so very sad. "Yes," she replied after a long exchange of silent gazes. "It was put into his body through a common pipe. We made him drink something after death." She created a broken smile on her once, full of life face.

"Minamo," Givanni began, trying to reason with her again.

"I had to do what I had to do," she raised her cracked voice, "don't tell me to move on, when I can do this."

Gevanni pressed his lips together, his eyes glittering with tears, unable to the bear the fumes of chemicals and herbs in such a small room. He turned his eyes away, setting them upon a fresh candle burning over the pile of old manuscripts and scrolls.

"I…I just don't want you to get hurt," Gevanni sighed out, holding his gaze at place. He knew his wife was not looking back at him. Her mind, this time, was set.

"My family," Minamo whispered, as if talking to the serenely sleeping L, "we have been practicing the right hand method of black magic for fifty generations." She picked up strands of auburn hair and tossed them into a small metal container that was warm with the burning coal.

Gevanni returned his burdened eyes back to his wife. It was strange how they met out of coincidence six years back in Japan. It was the temple festival that brought them together. If it was not for his marriage, L never would have found his one and only family.

"My mother told me, that it was a form of necromancy," her voice trailed off, as she looked down at the shriveling hair. "It binds the spirits to this earth, and so, my brother has not been able to cross over."

Gevanni remained silent. It was a farfetched idea. He thought Minamo was probably losing herself to her odd religious beliefs. But, he could not bring himself to tell her otherwise. She was already grief-stricken, and if this gave her comfort then perhaps there was no harm in it.

Gevanni nudged a small toy ball aside, his tucked up legs were staring to hurt badly. The room was dark, and covered in silence. Long straw mats draped the floor, and the sliding windows threw shadows of garden outside on the opposite wall. The almost nude cherry blossom trees were quivering slightly.

Gevanni looked at his wife again, his expression sober. "Ryuk has not showed up. I wouldn't trust him if I were you," Gevanni warned, keeping his voice as mellow as possible.

Minamo took a shaky breath, and shook the coal container a little with her fingers. "It doesn't matter," she paused, leaning her head down a little, "as soon as Raito figures out that he is bound to L, it will all be over for him."

Minamo's voice was heavy, but serene. Its intensity struck Gevanni, she really was very much serious about this whole plan. "I hope he stays true to his bargain," Gevanni ventured, clenching his cold-bitten fingers.

"He will," Minamo said, throwing some more of those auburn strands in the smouldering coal. They frizzled up and crackled like old paper, before burning completely. "If he doesn't, then he himself will die."

"A Shinigami dying," Gevanni thought aloud, cupping his chin. "Perhaps Rem died as well."

Minamo looked over her shoulder, her eyes hooded by the room's shadows. "Rem? Is there another Shinigami?" she asked, turning around a little.

"There was another Shinigami, but it disappeared. No one knows what happened to it. Maybe it lost its lifespan," Gevanni answered, peering through the veil of hazy smoke swirling in the room.

"You should ask him about Rem's death when he comes back," Minamo said, pulling up her long sleeves. The golden threads on her white kimono shone like gold in the dim room. "All he ever told me was that he could die with all the people unable to truly achieve death."

Gevanni lowered his eyes, his gaze wondering around the floor. "Near has caught Mikami. If all goes well, then you will get your answers," Gevanni said, lifting his head and eyes.

Minamo said nothing. She leaned over L, and planted a kiss on his slightly warm forehead. Somehow, to her, he looked a little more alive than before.

# # # # #

Standing there, under the same dead sky, something hit him… it hit him hard. It was as if someone sank his huge fist in his stomach, and knocked his breath out. His face broke out in sweat. His breath will not come out, chocked back by the realization of fear.

He had finally understood it. Raito finally knew. Looking down with trembling eyes, beads of sweat plopped down his auburn lashes. A deathly chill crawled up his spine, and he felt the hair on his head frizzle up in all directions.

The back of his neck felt itchy. Raito reached at the back of his head, and scratched harshly. His fingers slipped over something slimy and slippery. He pulled his hand back, and put it in front of his face. It was blood.

"Am I…bleeding," the emotion in his voice betrayed him. He quickly touched himself again, but this time he felt nothing. The blood had probably dried up on his neck. Drip drip, trickles of red landed on his face.

The sky was crying. And his grave was dug. His hazy vision travelled to the slab with the words 'you' engraved into it. Oyu was not a name. Beyond had played a nasty trick on him, he wanted him death.

Raito clenched his teeth in pain. This was probably purgatory, and those people… all of them were here. He had killed them in cold blood. But what did they want from him. "What do you want from me?" Raito snarled, the veins in his neck bulging out.

He tightened his hands, and slumped to the ground, his strength leaving him. He was going to die here. But why? What had he done to deserve this? He was the God of this new utopia he had created. So what if he killed a few people for this? They were necessary sacrifices.

Raito's resolve returned quickly, bringing a sense of life to his being. He pulled his eyes up, but got an unusual shock that shook his whole body. Mikami was also there. He was dead, dolefully looking at him from beyond that barrier.

He gathered himself to a proper sitting position, planting his hands close to the gaping grave that awaited his arrival. It was almost filled to the brim with fresh blood. Mud swam on its red ruffles. The stench was killing him.

"Feels terrible doesn't it," Beyond said, widening his eyes. His white shirt was soaking red. Streaks of blood ran crisscross across his fair face. "Don't worry, soon you will join them, on the other side." His tiny giggles progressed to a hideous laugher.

Raito's breath was hitched with convulsions of anger, and frustration. "I am not going anywhere. I am God of the new world," he cried out, his voice carrying over the rumbles of thunder.

"Why don't you ask your Shinigami? I doubt you know much," Beyond said, licking off the trail of blood from his chin. "Bye bye, Raito-Kun. I will meet you soon." He lolled his tongue out playfully. And then it all went black.

Raito found himself back in his room. His body felt cold as ice. Warm fresh sweat ran down his cheeks. This dream had some meaning, or was he going crazy? Was Mikami really dead?

The room was quiet, very quiet. Misa had already left for her shooting hours ago. He moved his eyes glazed over with beads of sweat. Through the sweat, he could faintly make out 5:20 pm on the clock.

Raito lifted his head off the chair's comfy back, and sat upright. His palms were slippery with sweat. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and looked around. His eyes searched and searched for Ryuk, but that good for nothing Shinigami was probably milling around the vast city looking for apples.

Cringing his fair face with disgust, Raito raked a few supple bangs back with his fingers. Misa had drawn the light blue curtains back. The sun was completely hidden behind the tall building where he worked day and night to elude his team, and Near.

He got to his feet, his eyes not leaving the tall building surrounded by a huddle of apartment rooftops. His thoughts however, remained in that dream, searching for answers to Mikami's death.

_If he really is dead, then, someone killed him_, a thought raced through his cunning mind. _But if he is dead, then what about the death note?_ The question held a heavy feeling of dread. He quickly rejected the idea. There was no way in hell that Mikami was dead. It was just not possible.

With a loud beep, his answering machine began to convey Aizawa's voice. "Raito-Kun, we need you at the head-quarters. Near wants to discuss something important with the Task Force members. Get to the head quarters as soon as possible."

Silence returned to the room with full force, but Raito's heavy breaths broke it in defiance. There was a strange feeling of uneasiness spreading quickly around him. His heart was being rebellious again, pounding loudly in his ears. Something was not right. But he had little choice in the matter.

He cast one last brief glance at the red hue spilling across the sky, and left the room in silence.

# # # # #

"Well," the young man sitting on the floor with his one leg curled up droned, twisting a hank of silvery looking hair. "I hope you don't try and come out of this one, Yagami Raito."

Raito was silent. His lips sewn shut, dry all over. His trembling eyes still settled upon Mikami's dead body. He sat slouched on the stool beyond the magic mirror. A giant pool of blood lay cold at his feet. He had stabbed himself with a pen. A thin gush of blood leaked from his neck; he had killed himself not long ago.

"The evidence is before you," Near began again, putting the two death notes before himself. "You used Amane Misa's Shinigami eyes, and then fearing L might put her under surveillance again, you made her forfeit the death note. The note can be forfeited, right Shinigami-San?"

Ryuk, standing with drooping shoulders let out a tiny chuckle. "Yes, it can be," he said, still smiling.

Raito clenched his teeth, Ryuk never spoke against him, then why now. His back was squashed against the wall, his eyes moving from one face to another. Matsuda looked devastated, Aizawa was quiet, but his father's face was racked with shock. He sat on a lone chair, his eyes wide with grief.

Near opened one death note, and held it up for others to see. "Misa's statements with Radha-San prove that she was the second Kira, killing for you," he said coldly, running his fingers down the list of criminals killed after Haguchi's death. "But after making her forfeit the death note, you gave it to your former girlfriend, Takada Kiyomi. She took on the role of second Kira, while you, sent your own death note to Mikami Teru."

Near's last words passed into silence. His boring eyes mocked Raito, reminding him of his looming defeat. Raito's chest was tightening around his heart. His mind was unable to grasp all that was unfolding before him.

"The Shinigami here confirmed the transfer of ownership, and the fake rule you made Rem write," Near said in a clam collected voice, putting the death note down on the carpeted floor. "The rule has been tested, so there is no need to use your slippery tongue here."

Raito hung onto Near's every word. His eyes locked with Near's. There was a strange force behind his emotionless gaze. Behind Near, stood another man with a chocolate bar clamped between his teeth. His face was screwed up in anger.

"No one knew about L's trip except Gevanni, L himself, and Matsuda," Near stopped, his words fell heavy on Matsuda, who looked away disgusted with himself. "He told you of L's trip, and you instructed Mikami to follow L. L's real name is written here, along with other instructions through which you made him write the names of all those he knew aside of the task force." Near tapped the page on Mikami's death note. His finger traced L's name, and then lingered down till the end of the page.

Near gently turned over several pages, his gaze dropped on another page filled with names of killers, swindlers, rapists, and even slackers. "But unfortunately for you, L had guessed several mechanics of the book, and thence asked the members to keep their names a secret," Near said slowly, lifting his gaze slightly to look at the defeated self-proclaimed god. "This is what saved the rest of the team members, but the prisoner was not so lucky, thus this incident branded you innocent again."

_Soichiri_ let out a shaky sigh. His red-flecked eyes were stretched to their limited. His shriveled face had aged by ten more years. He looked in denial.

"The pseudonyms of the members', and prisoner's real name, all are written here." Near held up the book again before the members standing under the same roof. A tall man with a name tag Lester stood behind him, towering over his tiny form. Next to him a lovely looking blonde woman stood tight-lipped, her face shrouded with a subtle emotion. "You asked Mikami to write them down along with L's name. But of course Miss Takada lost her life for your cause. You knew she lost the book to a man named Luke. She was nothing but a liability for you, so she died at your pawn's hand as well, a week before Mikami killed Mizaki," Near said with an air of certainty, wearing a wisp of a smile.

Matsuda's head was hung in sadness. Aizawa was staring at him with accusatory eyes. Why did it have to come to this? Raito had lost his tongue. There really was no way out of this.

Near turned over a single page. "This is Mizaki's name, along with the controlling mechanics Mikami employed. He made it look like a bus accident. Halle here can confirm this as well. No one in the entire Kira fanatic club knew about Mizaki's real name, but Mikami made use of his Shinigami eyes and wrote down the details on this page," Near added boldly, closing the book between his tiny hands. "But when we brought him in for questioning, he stabbed himself to death. The book was easy to find, as it was stashed away in his bank locker. He did it to save you. Let's see what you have to say for yourself, Kira." Near quirked his eyebrow playfully.

A heavy silence came chasing after Near's final words. It slowly fell over each and every one of them; all their gazes set on Raito, the treacherous man who eluded them for so long.

Raito breathed heavily behind the turned up collars. His eyes were enveloped by the silky light brown bangs. He slewed his eyes towards Ryuk, who was smiling without a care in the world. The Shinigami's yellow eyes hid a strange glint today. He knew about all of this.

Feeling betrayed, raw anger rushed back into Raito's veins. "So what," he hissed, peering through his bangs. "I cleansed the world of filth. People can live safely now, and this is all because of me."

"No," Near corrected him, "you just created a world around your ideals. You wanted people to live by your rules. You are just an arbitrary ruler. Don't consider yourself too exclusive, the world has seen many people like yourself."

"I did not do this for my benefit," Raito tried to reason, and looked up to face his nemesis. "I did it to save the world."

"Save the world?" Near asked with a high note of mockery in his emotionless voice. "You killed many FBI agents for the purpose of saving them I suppose. Or maybe, in your perspective, they were necessary sacrifices. How tried I am of this cliché." He smiled, meeting Raito's gaze with untouched calm.

"You will never understand," Raito retorted as he evened out his ragged breath. "The world is better place now. Take me away and it will return to what it was. Everyone will regret it."

"I don't care about your stereotypical sociopathic ideals. You are not above anyone else, no matter how hard you try and convince yourself otherwise. You were born a human, and you will die as one, just like everyone else here," Near said as the tiny smile disappeared from his face. "You are only a self-proclaimed, self-glorified, self-serving god. You perched yourself on your own made pedestal, and it is about time you got removed from there. Lester, Halle, arrest this mass murder." He gestured with a lazy wave of his hand.

"There is no need," Ryuk interrupted, directing his empty gaze towards Raito. "Remember what I told you Raito? You will die at my hands and no one else's. I think you should remember that?"

"Ryuk, what are you d- doing?" Raito spluttered in shock, looking at Ruyk casually open another death note in his spidery hand.

"I did not want to do this Raito, but, you lost the game, and since now that I am almost out of life-span because of you, I don't think it is fun anymore," Ryuk said with a smiling face, penning Raito's name on his note book.

"What?" Raito chocked out, unable to find any words to say.

"That's right, so many people are stuck in the purgatory because you killed L. If I don't kill you now, who knows maybe I might end up like Rem. Now that is a scary thought, isn't it?" he said, laughing.

Raito felt convulsions of fear rack his legs. He was going to die. He slumped down to the floor. "Ryuk, don't do this. I don't want to die," he begged, and snapped his head towards his father. "Father, stop him… I am your son, I don't deserve this." His cries fell on deaf ears. _Soichiri_ was still reeling from shock. His downcast eyes were swimming with tears.

Ryuk's unsympathetic gaze was settled upon him. He stretched his lips, and threw a cheeky smile as the last few seconds passed away. "Farewell Raito. It was fun, while it lasted," he said in a deep throaty voice, and closed the death note in his hand.

A sharp pain tore through Raito's body. He clutched at his heart, and fell on the ground. All his life flashed before his eyes as he took his last breath. Near and others looked on as last pieces of his soul struggled to leave his body. His face twisted in an expression of pain, and his eyes suddenly went vacant… Raito was dead.

Ryuk cast one last glance at him, and flew out of the building with his death note. It was a long one minute before someone broke the silence.

# # # # #

When Raito opened his eyes, he was under the same sky which he had been dreaming about. But this time L stood there, alone in the wilderness of the purgatory. Raito sat upright, but before he could say anything, he got dragged back beyond the barrier. A scream tore itself from his throat, but he heard nothing. L returned his vengeful gaze with silence. His ever watchful eyes watching him as he disappeared beyond death.

It was probably over. L stood alone once more. A strange smell of life crept into his nostrils. It was a fresh smell of roses. He felt sleepy. He closed his eyes, and fell back to the hard ground that felt like a bed of roses. A current of life dashed through his veins, and his long dead heart leapt in his chest.

L's eyes fluttered open. When the haze cleared, he found himself looking into the eyes of his sister. The promise had been delivered, and he was alive…

**AN**: Hope you all enjoyed the final chapter. Any comments for future Death Note stories, or for this specific story are welcome via pm, or reviews.

This was meant to be a much longer story, where I wanted to add more imaginative layers to Blank Magic. But alas, I lost interest in this story pretty fast. But it was still a nice ride, from way back in 2007 when I actually started it. I will post a small epilogue soon, but for all intents and purposes, this story has met its due end.


	24. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

Staring at the sky, resplendent in the colour of sunrise, the sights and sounds of life once again had become a tactile actuality. He was alive, he really was. The world knew him as L, but to himself, he was a just another human being bound by the fetters of mortality.

Was that a venial sin he made by breaking free of death? The thought was long past. His skin tingled under the gentle draft of cool morning air. On the ground, the green grass was soft, and fresh white lilies lay close to the slab inscribed with, 'Watari, you will be missed.'

He was still surrounded by death. So many grave stones stood over the flat graves. A few angel statues adorned the graves of children; they had died before their time. Time; he remembered feeling nothing, just the stillness of death in purgatory. Maybe it never existed. After all, nothing was transient…at least humans were not.

"Ryu," Minamo gently squeezed his bent shoulder. "Are you alright?" she asked, looking at his expressionless face.

L, pulling his eyes back from the slab brought them to his sister. She looked the same as before; beautiful, elegant, and untouched by time. "Not much time has passed, has it?" he whispered, squinting through his uneven black bangs.

"No," she paused, staring into his black eyes, filled with the fire of life, "but you are here. Now we can make our own time; yours and mine." She intertwined her long fingers with his, feeling his heart beating in the palm of his hand.

A gentle smile broke his expressionless face, and a faint pinkish blush rose to his cheeks. "You were always the philosopher type," L said, squeezing her hand tightly.

With a wide smile, Minamo looked skyward, and gently said, "I know."

For a few moments, they stood quietly, bathing in the morning light. It was strange to L, the new sensations and verve of the new life he felt. It was as if he had just been born as an infant.

"Let's go," Minamo said, pulling L back from the grave of a dear friend lost forever.

L cast one last glance at the words, and turned around, looking back at his two successors standing next to Gevanni. Perhaps, it was a lesson learned as a detective, as a human being.

But now, the feeling of happiness, desires, a new longing, and zest for life surged through his body. He was just happy to be alive…

**AN**: I would like to thank all the people who reviewed, or put this story in their Favourite or Alert list. I cannot make everyone happy, but I guess my story was liked by those who shared my perspective on characters.

Many people must have disagreed with me, but keep this in mind, as an amateur story-teller and Literature student, I have my own analytical side, which might not coincide with your views. So, do keep that in mind as well.

I WILL do some minor editing, as I am certain I left tiny mistakes here and there, and so, would like to flush them out. But, the chapters will not be reposted; I will simply replace the documents.

Anyhow, I thank all the readers again, because it means that **you give a damn**.

Take care


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